


Bitterest Tears

by Sirhorsealot



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Zero, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dangan Ronpa IF, Dangan Ronpa Zero Spoilers, Despair, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Enemies, How Do I Tag, Memory Loss, One-Sided Attraction, Other, Post-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Tags May Change, iZURU nO, probably out of character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2020-07-11 14:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19929223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirhorsealot/pseuds/Sirhorsealot
Summary: Ryoko Otonashi wakes up in a school full of despair and devoid of life.





	1. Hollow Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since I finally decided to look into Danganronpa Zero, I've been really into the whole idea of Ryoko and how memory loss affects people. Thus, I decided to try my first multi-chapter fic! Also, there really aren't enough stories with Ryoko in them ;-;  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Darkness.

She could hear a faint rumbling in the distance, but it only served to increase her painful migraine.

With a groan, she opened her eyes, taking in brightly colored walls. She was in a building, that much was sure, though it was definitely a strange place. Purple walls? And, why were there so many doors? 'For all of the rooms,' a snide part of her mind answered. Still suffering a headache and very confused, she turned onto her side and used her shaky arms to get herself off of the ground.

That was a bad idea, she immediately noted, as the walls began to swirl around her and she felt the urge to vomit. Steadying herself on a nearby pillar, she took deep breaths through her hand and began to rationalize her surroundings. First things first, she noticed that she was a redhead, picking up one of her long locks from in front of her eyes and examining it. Next, she took in her surroundings. There was a door near her left, and one on the other side of the pillar. Further down the violet hall, three more doors could be seen, all looking exactly the same, along with a stairwell.

"Where am I...?" she wondered aloud. There were no windows in sight and the air felt oppressive and thick, making it hard to breathe. Feeling a bit more confident now, the redhead walked down the dimly lit hall, the clacking of her footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. Her face was scrunched in uncertainty, and her steps were light as she almost cartoonishly sneaked along. She arrived at the staircase, but, following some strange instincts, turned right instead, finding yet another door. This one she opened and stepped through, discovering a trophy room behind it. Large display cases ran along the sides of the small room, as if leading her to the door further back.

"Here goes nothing..." she murmured, pacing over to the opposing door and placing her hand on it and opening it. It swung open freely, her legs tangling as she lurched forward. She stumbled with a cry, not expecting the door to open so easily, and caught herself just before she faceplanted right into the hardwood floor. Looking up, it finally hit her exactly where she was. The room was spacious and composed of ambers, yellows and browns. Countless black, grey and white marks covered the floor, most likely from a variety of shoes, covering up the court lines underneath. Then, of course, there was the smell. Although it was evident that a strong cleaning agent had been utilized, the room still carried the whiff of sweat and body odor.

Yes, this was a gym. That meant that this place... based on the previous rooms, was a school. ... What was she doing in a school? Deciding that she needed more answers, the redhead walked back into the trophy room and approached one of the display cases, searching for her reflection.

She looked... young. She wasn't a child, but certainly put the "young" in young adult. Either that, or she was a teenager. It didn't matter much, whichever was true. However, that meant that she might go to this school. Her eyes, which she now saw were a reddish brown, lit up with realization. Of course! She went here! That meant that someone here must know her, right? She found herself smiling. "I guess things are looking up," she remarked to herself. Now, all she had to do was find someone, and see if they knew her, or at least where she was. It would be simplicity itself. Just go up, introduce herself and- Wait. Introduce...? Another realization hit her now.

"What... is my name?!" For the first time since she woke up, the redhead began to think about her name. Or, to be more precise, the apparent lack thereof. Now panicking, she ran out of the room, ignoring her returning queasiness as she bolted down the hall in search of something, anything that she could use to identify herself. Wow, she was sure fast. Maybe she was the Ultimate Runner. A part of her giggled at that, but she shook her head. Now was no time for jokes. After briefly pausing to search the ground where she woke up and coming up blank, she found herself at the end of the hall, staring down yet another passageway. This one was lit up with deep red lights, and she couldn't help the shiver of dread that ran down her spine at the momentary thought that the red might've been blood.

"Hello? Is anybody there?" she called, voice shaking. No one answered back but her own echo. Was this place abandoned or something? If so, why leave her here? Deciding that there must not be anyone else around, or at least no one interested in introductions, her scarlet gaze landed on the rooms decorating the place. Each had a cute little pixel person hanging on a sign which was seemingly attached to the metal, signifying who lived there. Her mind immediately leapt to the idea that perhaps these rooms held the answers. If the circumstances were different, then perhaps she would prioritize them keeping their privacy. But for now, the redhead needed answers. And fast.

Thus, she began her investigation. Most of the rooms were almost barren and eerily spacious. Others seemed filled to the brim, especially two rooms that seemed to be crawling with books. She eventually grew to find her migraine from earlier had dissipated without her knowledge, but she brushed it off. After pointedly deciding against looking in a couple of rooms, if only for the dubious contents within, she stared down the last of the unchecked rooms.

She found herself in front of a door bearing a twintailed pixel girl on it. Within the room, there were some make-up supplies and a couple of blonde wigs haphazardly thrown onto the bed. Like many of the other rooms, it was surprisingly sparse and open. The redhead glanced around and as her eyes met a dresser, she felt herself drawn to it, opening the drawers from the bottom to the top. In one of the middle drawers, hidden behind a copious amount of dusty-smelling clothes, was a simple notebook. Ravenous, she curiously peeked inside.

"Ryoko Otonashi's Memory Notebook," she read aloud. The first passage read -

_My name is Ryoko Otonashi. At least, I think it is. I have troubles with my memory, so Yasuke-kun told me that I should keep a journal. He's so thoughtful! Yasuke Matsuda is the Ultimate Neurologist. He's helping me with my memory. He can be kind of mopey sometimes, but he's too important to me for me to stay mad at him. Anyway, I'm Ryoko Otonashi. I'm sixteen years old! Yasuke-kun suggested that I write down some stuff to identify myself by in case I forget who I am again, so that's what this is. I'm around five-foot seven or so, and I have red eyes and hair. Oh, and I'm also the Ultimate Analyst. At least, that's what Yasuke-kun told me._

She stopped reading there, despite the entry continuing. Red hair and eyes... Memory problems...

"I wrote this!" she exclaimed. a giddy feeling rising through her chest. She didn't remember writing this down, but then again, she didn't remember anything at the moment. "So... I'm Ryoko Otonashi, the Ultimate Analyst." Ryoko didn't feel very smart, but she supposed that perhaps her memory loss affected her analytic skills. It certainly wouldn't surprise her any. Now, what to do...? There were now endless options spanning before Ryoko like individual bridges. Each had their positives and negatives, but right now the best choices seemed to be finding out what she was doing in an abandoned school all by herself. And then -

Before she could ponder any more, her stomach grumbled loudly, apparently hungry. Still carrying the journal, Ryoko left the room, careful to close the door behind her. She had a strange feeling that the girl living there wouldn't like her to leave it open. And, without further prompting, set out in search of some food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, Ryoko wants ANSWERS-  
> And then she wants food XD  
> In Danganronpa Zero, she's supposed to be super carefree, so even though I made her a bit more focused here, I still wanted that to shine through.  
> Tell me what you think!


	2. Wrongness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some bored exploring... and maybe more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm going to be going camping starting tomorrow until Thursday. That means I'll have no Wi-Fi, so I'm updating this now, while I still have the chance.  
> Enjoy!

Over the next few days, Ryoko wandered the halls of the massive school. Her initial migraine had yet to return, and she found a kitchen with all the food she would need for at least a couple months. If she was smart and rationed the food, it could possibly last her a year, though the perishables would certainly be bad by then. Of course, this didn't put a dent in her spirit. Although she'd yet to encounter anyone, her journal filled her days with much information.

Ryoko learned of this school; Hope's Peak Academy, and a supposed tragedy that took place there. It also mentioned Yasuke Matsuda, the Ultimate Neurologist, many times, and even featured many sketches of what he must look like. If Ryoko had to be honest, it was a lot to take in. If the journal entries were anything to go by, it seemed that her past self would forget things all the time. Even the people she knew. In most of the entries, she was just talking about Yasuke-kun this, Yasuke-kun that.

But, there were a rare few exceptions. A couple entries noted one Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate Fashionista, and her sister Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier. They both went to Hope's Peak, just like Ryoko, but though they were both mentioned and even described vividly on paper for her to read, she just didn't feel a connection of any sort to the duo. There were a couple other foreign names scrawled in there as well, but Ryoko felt it was safe to ignore them. They couldn't hurt her now.

Probably.

A small sigh escaped her lips.

"I wonder what past-me did for fun, other than bothering Matsuda..." Ryoko wondered to herself. She'd been getting into a bad habit of talking to herself lately or, worse, talking to inanimate objects. She blamed the isolation.

"Well, I won't find out just sitting here, huh? I guess I'd better look around some more. There's still the fifth floor to check out." Ryoko tucked her journal under her arm, giving it a pat. "Let's go, Memory Journal." With that, she was off. Up past the second, third and fourth floors, which were their own unique colors. The fifth floor had cobalt lights to differentiate itself. Ryoko had traveled up here briefly a couple different times before, but put exploring the other floors first.

Now, there was a strange feeling of finality here. The fifth floor was the last floor, and in scoping it out, Ryoko would be completely exhausting her potential options for what she'd considered fun. Not only that, but she got a strange feeling whenever she went up there. Some part of herself was telling her to turn back. 'Just like with the Data Processing room...' But, this time, she wouldn't listen.

Nothing here could hurt her so, in theory, she'd be just fine exploring the fifth floor.

Ryoko repeated this mantra in her head as she began to wander around. She passed two classrooms. Something told her that they weren't important, and Ryoko couldn't find the motivation to open them regardless. Instead, she turned, ignoring the classrooms. She approached a door on her left and, curious as ever, peeked inside.

It had huge cherry trees in full bloom on what looked like some kind of indoor lawn. A strange wind picked up the cotton candy petals and swirled them amidst the room. Many lockers, like the ones you'd find at old bathhouses (Ryoko wasn't sure how she knew this, exactly), lined the walls of the half closest to the door. There even seemed to be a target range at the back. Looking in at that, Ryoko felt a strong sense of longing, longing to go out and indulge in the same beauty outdoors.

However, just two days prior, she'd sneaked a glance outside, opening the huge metal door in the entrance hall. She was now aware that the world was in a state of decay. The sky was an unnatural, deep blood red and the land was dark and desolate. Something big had happened, that much was sure. But what, exactly, Ryoko couldn't say. It worried her that she could forget something so important.

The redhead retracted herself from the room and, with a sigh, closed the door. Nothing she had found in her journal mentioned the world falling into ruins! And, with no one around, how was she supposed to understand why it happened in the first place?! Ryoko shook her head to clear her thoughts. She still had exploring to do, after all. Worrying could be saved for later. She turned to her right, seeing yet another door there and, seeing it's title as a botanical garden, decided to look inside it as well.

"Woah..." It was more beautiful than Ryoko predicted. The place was absolutely covered in plants, all popping with different, exotic colors. For a moment, she thought that the ceiling was glass, but remembering the red sky, she deduced that it must be some sort of trick instead. A fragrant, albeit somewhat stifling, scent permeated the air. There was a small chicken coup, and Ryoko was surprised to find living, breathing birds inside. They screeched upon noticing her, and after some initial ringing in her ears, she came to the conclusion that they were probably hungry. So, she looked around until she eventually stumbled across a shed.

Inside were many gardening tools and such, along with chicken pellets and, strangely enough, a miscellaneous wooden bat. Strange inscriptions were engraved into it's cedar, and though it looked worn, it was well maintained. The redhead found herself picking it up alongside the chicken food. If someone were to enter the school, now she would be somewhat armed. At least, she sure hoped so.

As she watched the chickens eat, her fingers aimlessly felt along the veins of the bat. Even under a couple layers of what she could only assume to be some kind of wood finish, the nicks and cracks in the wood were distinct. She searched her mind for the markings engraved, but sadly came up with nothing. Once again, the redhead let out a sigh and turned to leave, but not before looking up at the goliath flower in the center of the room. She was actually very fearful of it. The mammoth flower looked eerily like a giant mouth, and Ryoko didn't doubt that it could very well eat her if she wasn't careful. Now having thoroughly creeped herself out, she hurried out of the room, bat in tow.

Back in the blue hall, she turned left to find yet another empty classroom. Ryoko wasn't entirely sure why, but she could feel a strong sense of _wrongness_ from behind that door. As curious as she may be, she certainly wasn't suicidal. The unyielding force of malice creeping out from behind just one door... It was enough to leave her trembling in her boots So, she decided to call it quits for the time being. Her legs still shook as she descended, though, and she felt oddly dirty, like one hundred showers could never cleanse her. Perhaps, then, some things were better off being left alone.

Just as she found her way back onto the first floor, a loud whirring sound filled the usually silent air. Ryoko had only heard that sound once before, but recognized it immediately - it was the door that lead outside. Her hands instinctively gripped the bat tightly but, before she could gather her nerve, she was sprinting full-force to the dorms. Her shaky legs carried her all the way back to the room she'd been staying in - one marked by a small pixel boy with wild hair.

Because it was the most empty, it gave her all the space she needed to personalize it, not that she had any decorations to put in there. Any other room, and she'd feel guilty for encroaching in someone's personal space. But that room felt like home to her and, now, it would be her safehouse. She rushed inside and locked the door, positioning herself so that, if these intruders managed to break in, she'd break their noses with her new wooden friend. She also left the door cracked, so she could still hear outside. And for many still moments, she waited, until...

"Makoto, why are we here again?"

And it was then that Ryoko realized - she'd left her notebook behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, are you guys liking it so far? I know the chapters are sort of rushed, but I didn't really want longer chapters that stressed everything over and over again ):  
> So, tell me what you think :3 I'm open to any/all criticism


	3. Reunion?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter where I didn't want to stop -_-  
> Seriously though, it's long :0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wanted to get the whole "encounter" thing relatively taken care of by the end of this chapter, which made it really long. There be lots of dialogue ahead!

The muted pitter-patter of hard soles on the tile flooring outside filled Ryoko with a potent sense of dread, her fingers grasping the thick wood ever tighter. She peered out the crack she left open, but couldn't see anything. Soon, though, voices began to flutter down the hall.

"Seriously, man. What did we come back here for?" someone outside asked, voice loud and seemingly careless considering their surroundings. Another person sighed.

"You really don't remember? We're just doing a mandatory check to make sure Junko isn't here," they responded, sounding a bit tired, but otherwise hopeful.

"As members of Future Foundation, it is our duty to do all we can to stop despair!" a third person reprimanded, voice somehow even louder. It made Ryoko jump, but she was too on edge to admit it to herself. "I will not report you when we return, but this is your only warning from me, Yasuhiro." One of them cleared their throats, breaking the awkward silence.

"I would say that we need to be quiet, but you've probably alerted Junko at this point with all your yelling," yet a different voice spoke, clearly exasperated. "I'm sure she's long gone." Though foreign and unfamiliar, there was something almost comedic about the way they spoke to each other that livened the atmosphere just enough to spark Ryoko's hungry curiosity once again. She inwardly cursed her own incorrigible tendencies.

"Hey!" Ryoko jumped a little, but quickly realized that it wasn't directed at her. "What's this notebook?"

"Oh yeah! That totally wasn't there last time!" the forgetful voice chimed in, albeit not very helpfully. Then, the conversation unexpectedly cut off. Ryoko could still hear low mumbles, but she wasn't able to make out any distinct words until the exasperated voice spoke up again.

"Yeah, we should look into it." From there, the footsteps seemed to fade from earshot. That is, except one specific stride. The clacking was evenly paced, but their owner did make a brief stumble. They grew steadily louder and louder before...

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Ryoko could see a boy standing in the scarlet hallway. His hair was jagged and messy, but his expression was sincere and open. Really, he didn't look much older than her. Not knowing how to respond, Ryoko tried to stifle a gasp, but it seemed that the mystery man heard her regardless.

"Please? I won't hurt you," he pleaded. "My friends and I are with Future Foundation. We're only here to help." The redhead took an unsure step back in response. But the boy kept creeping closer and closer to her room. And, he gently pushed the door fully open.

Ryoko could feel his green eyes bore into her and she ended up panicking. With reflexes she didn't know she had, the redhead rushed in and bashed the intruder in the forehead. She did it hard enough to hopefully leave a bruise, but evidently not enough to knock him out, as he still stood in place. His scruffy hoodie didn't even looked disturbed.

Adrenaline continued to course throughout her body, though, and she sprinted down the hall even faster than she'd run to her room, passing two men with equally untamable hair on her way past and up the staircase.

"Wait!" one of them called after her, but Ryoko was too razor focused to even register their words. She ignored their pleas and ran up the stairs until she arrived back on the fifth floor. Not even thinking, she sprinted down the cobalt path with chaotic breath and made a direct beeline for... the classroom she'd run away from. Panting heavily, red eyes stared into the door, and that dangerous feeling crept up her spine once again. She could hear her pursuers. They'd reach her in twenty seconds if she didn't act. Well - fifteen if they stopped calling after her.

"Come back!"

She had to make a decision here and now. Run or face them.

"Wait!"

Ten seconds, ticking down. Ryoko made her decision. She placed her hand on the door and...

"Stop!"

Pulled it wide open. At once, time seemed to freeze. A thick, gag-inducing stench poured out. Long patches of wall were sprayed with dark, coagulated bodily fluids that some part of Ryoko noted was blood. Desks were strewn about, and too many chalk outlines made up the floor. But, the icing on the cake? The small message in the corner. One that sent chills through Ryoko's body and mind alike.

"An eye for an eye."

Comprehending those words, in the context of that one classroom, brought a blanket of darkness over her vision and the redhead wasn't even awake by the time she hit the floor.

…

"-n you hear me? Hello?"

Crimson eyes slowly, slowly opened. Everything was a muddled blur, but she could somewhat identify her pursuers. The hoodie boy she'd first encountered was looming over her, probably holding her in his arms. He didn't strike Ryoko as the threatening type, despite her mild protests. Standing a bit farther away were two other guys. One was wearing all white, and though his hair was short and somewhat orderly, it still exploded with personality.

The other was tall and tanned, but oddly gangly. His hair, which could pass as it's own lifeform, mirrored this thin scraggliness. They seemed to be in one of the dorm rooms - no, her room. The redhead spent a few more quiet moments analyzing the situation and strangers, but soon her brain kick-started and she was struggling out of the hoodie boy's grasp before she could even think. Terrified, she backed up until she hit the wall and clutched her legs protectively.

"Woah! We're not here to hurt you, okay?" Hoodie boy exclaimed at her sudden outburst. The white-clothed man behind him nodded firmly.

"We are your rescuers, not your attackers! Do not make the same mistake again!" Ryoko whimpered at his loud outrage, but the kind boy shot him a pleading look, and he quickly retracted to the other side of the room with the gangly man. "Let's try this again. My name is Makoto Naegi," he introduced. "Who are you?"

"R... M-my name is..." Ryoko hesitated for a long moment, but swiftly decided that Makoto was trustworthy enough. "Ryoko Otonashi." Makoto seemed a bit surprised by this, but soon a smile worked it's way onto his face.

"Ryoko Otonashi? Then, could this belong to you?" He held out a strikingly familiar journal colored in grey and black. He graciously flipped open the cover and, printed clearly on the first page, it read -

The Memory Journal of Ryoko Otonashi.

The redhead gasped.

"Y-yes! Where was it?" Makoto chuckled and scratched his cheek.

"Just in front of the stairs. Did you drop it when we came in?" Ryoko nodded, reclaiming the old notebook from him. She cuddled it to her chest like a child with their favorite stuffed animal, but realized that Makoto was still looking at her.

"Err... Thank you." She bowed her head. Looking up, she finally noticed the puffy, oval-shaped purple bruise on his forehead. A feeling akin to embarrassment sunk into her cheeks, and she realized that her face was probably as red as her eyes. "And, uh... sorry about your face."

"That's okay," the boy politely affirmed. "Do you think you can trust us now?" Ryoko paused at that. It was a straightforward question. One that needed to be answered to unlock more information. She was still on edge, but was quick to point out to herself that, in some strange way, her wish came true. More people were here now. While they may not know her, exactly, they were better than thin air and claustrophobic halls. Besides, they could keep her far more entertained than exploring the old school. Really, what was there to lose? Still hesitative, Ryoko nodded her head.

"I'm glad!" Makoto sighed in relief. "I really didn't mean to frighten you. We're just here on certain business. None of us were aware that someone was living here." He waved back over the other two and gave them brief introductions. "This is Yasuhiro Hagakure," he pointed to the tan man, "and this is Kiyotaka Ishimaru." He then pointed to the man in white. "We were all students here before The Tragedy."

"Ah! So, does that mean you're all Ultimates too?" Ryoko questioned. Makoto nodded.

"I was the Ultimate Lucky Student. Hiro was the Ultimate Clairvoyant-"

" _Is_ , not was!"

"-and Taka was the Ultimate Moral Compass." Ryoko hummed thoughtfully.

"I see. Well, according to this," she motioned to her journal, "I was also a student here. I'm supposedly the Ultimate Analyst." The three guys exchanged confused looks.

"I don't remember there being an Ultimate Analyst," Yasuhiro spoke up first, scratching at his massive hair. Kiyotaka nodded enthusiastically.

"I second that!"

"Well, to be fair, there are still some memories we're all recovering," Makoto replied, holding his hands up. "I'm sure we just don't remember you, Ryoko." The other two didn't look too convinced, but Makoto seemed very certain of his words. Either he was stupidly trusting, or crazy reliable. Maybe both, Ryoko decided. Before further discussion could resume, the door to the room swung open. A girl with short black hair stood there, holding a water bottle.

Her face was like a stone mask; immovable and cold. At least, that was Ryoko's first impression. She looked somewhat similar, however, to the redhead still currently backed against the wall. Her eyes were more slanted, her hair (obviously) the wrong color and her figure skinnier than Ryoko, who considered herself somewhat out of shape due to her softness. Of course, that theory flew out the window after what happened earlier. But, despite that, they held an uncanny likeness.

"I brought what you asked, Makoto," she informed. Her voice, too, lacked a certain flair that the other three had in spades.

"Thanks," the aforementioned smiled gratefully. "Here you go," he prompted, handing the bottle to Ryoko. She grabbed it and took a sip, but her mind remained fixated on the mystery girl.

"Who... are you?" she tentatively asked, raising an eyebrow. The raven-haired girl pierced her with a chilly gaze, but Ryoko did her best to look as non-threatening as possible. Before the girl cracked, however, Makoto interjected.

"This is Mukuro Ikusaba. Like us, she was a former student," he explained, ever helpful. Ryoko let out an involuntary gasp.

"Mukuro Ikusaba… I know I've heard that name somewhere! But where...?" Ryoko combed her memory for any mention of a Mukuro Ikusaba. As she recollected, her eyes scanned across the room until they came to rest on her journal. "Aha! Now I remember!" The other girl just shot her a confused look, but there was a hidden tremble in her lip that give away her nervousness.

"You're the Ultimate Soldier, right? That Mukuro Ikusaba?" The other girl nodded stiffly. "I knew it! According to this," Ryoko held up the notebook again, "I met you in the past! So, do you recognize me? My name is Ryoko Otonashi, and I'm the Ultimate Analyst."

"Well..." Mukuro seemed to stop herself. Her face scrunched in thought, like she was waging a war in her mind. She glanced to the notebook and then to Ryoko, getting more and more uncomfortable-looking as the seconds slipped by. "... No," she settled on. Ryoko's face immediately drooped.

"Oh... Sorry, I must be thinking of the wrong person then," she apologized.

"Well, my name _is_ Mukuro Ikusaba, and I am - _was_ the Ultimate Soldier. That much is true," Mukuro admitted. "But, I don't recall meeting you." Now, that just confused Ryoko. She didn't speak up about it, but her journal clearly stated that she and Mukuro had encountered each other before - they even held conversations, however stilted.

Then again, Makoto did mention some memory issues with he, Yasuhiro and Kiyotaka. It wouldn't be too far-fetched to include Mukuro in that as well. But, that just raised more questions. Questions like, 'Why does everyone seem to have memory loss?' or even, 'Can I actually trust this journal?'

"Well, if you're feeling better, then I think we'd better get going," Makoto spoke suddenly, interrupting her train of thought.

"Yeah... Staying out here too late is like asking for trouble," Yasuhiro agreed, rubbing his chin in a vain attempt to come across as wise.

"Then..." Ryoko was speaking before she understood what she was saying. "Can I come with you guys?" The other four people in the room stared at her incredulously. "I mean... You just said it was dangerous, and you four are the first people I've met since waking up here. I don't remember anything before that, and since Makoto mentioned memory issues with you all, maybe you could help me too? Besides, I like to think I'm pretty handy with a bat. I can handle myself," Ryoko reasoned, crossing her arms at the ladder portion in indignation. No one said anything for a couple of long, painful moments until Makoto began laughing.

"Of course you can come! When I said 'we', I meant _all_ of us!" Ryoko was taken aback by that.

"I believed you were aware of this," Kiyotaka agreed. "I apologize. I will try to make myself more clear in the future."

"But, like, it was Makoto who said it and not you, so...?" Yasuhiro just ended up shrugging.

"You'll be needing this, then," Mukuro spoke. She went over and picked something up, offering it to Ryoko. It was her bat, complete with the engraved symbols. She smiled upon seeing it.

"Bat buddy!" she exclaimed excitedly, grabbing it eagerly and rubbing it against her face with love.

"All right, then." Makoto stood up, offering his hand to Ryoko with a genuine smile. "Let's get going."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think of the longer chapter? Should I make them longer like this in the future?


	4. Remnants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prepping and groundwork for later chapters ;3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the chapter name, no Remnants actually appear... or do they?!  
> I'll leave that up for you guys to decide ;7

Easily put, the journey was far from easy. The landscape outside the school's protective walls was further leaden than Ryoko, in her horrified state, could ever predict. She'd hoped that it was better than it was, with blue skies and sunshine just a hop, skip and jump away. The journey, which was nearly reaching it's conclusion, trampled her hope into the cold, hard ground. Thankfully, with Makoto there, it made things a lot better.

When she told him this, he laughed and explained that he was unofficially called the Ultimate Hope after leaving Hope's Peak and venturing out into the post-despair world. This deeply intrigued Ryoko. What must one do to be called the "Ultimate Hope"? She didn't know, but deeply wished to find out. Though the others weren't total bothers, on the other hand, they did take a back seat to Makoto in terms of general nicety.

Yasuhiro and Kiyotaka constantly butted heads (Ryoko was pretty sure she heard Kiyotaka mention tattling on Yasuhiro when they returned, and the ladder putting a curse on the former and his bloodline), and Mukuro talked very little. While she'd grown a bit weary of the two boys, the same couldn't be said for the other girl. Ryoko did her best not to convince herself that the raven-haired look-alike was actually trying to ignore her, and worked to not let the dissonance get to her. In the past few days, in fact, the redhead was proud to proclaim that she'd securely made an acquaintance out of Mukuro. The other girl had a real passion for military paraphernalia, and after learning that small talk was a metaphorical landmine with Mukuro, Ryoko had been rather successful in getting the other girl to open up, even if it was at a snail's pace.

Anything was better than nothing.

Just as Ryoko put down her pencil, a sharp crack rang through the air. A pale hand tapped on her shoulder. having crawled out of the shadows.

"Remnants," Mukuro coolly warned, as they needed no further introduction. "C'mon." The redhead nodded and quickly shut her journal, pencil still inside her current page. She was partially pulled away down the monochrome, crowded alleyways, which were far more maze-like than she'd initially given them credit for. They sprinted along the linear paths, constantly switching up their route. Eventually, Mukuro led her all the way to an abandoned apartment building. Using the emergency ladder outside, the two climbed their way up to the third floor and into a cracked window, finding their three compatriots waiting for them in a room very clearly left to rot. Makoto was the first to respond.

"I'm so glad you're safe!" he sighed in relief. "When we spotted them, we weren't sure if you two would make it or not." Ryoko couldn't really find anything to say to that, so she just gave the boy a nervous smile.

"We had enough time. Besides, I'm sure I could at least hold them off long enough for Ryoko to get away," Mukuro shrugged, surprisingly nonchalant.

"They're very crafty though - I'm sure they had already though of a way around you," Makoto continued, still concerned. Mukuro only shrugged again and took a seat on a dusty old sofa in the room, pulling out a pistol and mindlessly spinning the barrel. Ryoko silently joined her, opening back up her journal. She'd been continuing her entries, after catching up on them all. It felt almost like she was desecrating what was already put to page, but there was so much empty space leftover from before her memory loss that she felt compelled to give her journal an ending of some kind.

She finished writing up her entry, detailing the run back to the apartment, which had been their base for the past few days, and their current standings. Ryoko had initially been confused when the Remnants were explained to her, as all the talk of hope, despair and Junko Enoshima only served to destroy her preconceived notions of the girl who apparently called herself the Ultimate Despair. It was a lot to take in, but she managed to generally understand that -

_Remnants = Danger_

She nodded lightly to herself as she penned that loose phrase down and once again shut her notebook. The redhead rose from the couch, dusting off her plain black skirt and placing the black and grey journal down in her place. Then, she joined Yasuhiro at the window.

"How's it looking?" she asked quietly, tilting her head at odd angles in an attempt to peek between the blinds. Yasuhiro furrowed his brows.

"If they know where we are, they're definitely not coming after us," he stated, eyes still glued to the deserted street below. "Hey, we might even be in the clear!" His outburst was met with an immediate symphony of shushes from the other three Future Foundation members, and he mumbled a quiet apology, though Ryoko didn't think the others heard it. She gave him a small pat on the shoulder, but slowly backed away from the window.

After, she moved over to the small kitchen, where Taka was looking through their supplies. On the table was their rations, most of which had come from the school, some communication devices and other such technology, along with their weapons. This included Ryoko's bat, which she had begun to call Barry, but left out Mukuro's personal repertoire.

"How are our supplies doing, Taka?" Ryoko questioned, raising an eyebrow. She'd taken to calling him just Taka after much convincing from Makoto that he really wasn't too bad, but hadn't quite warmed up to Yasuhiro enough yet to call him Hiro. Taka spared her a thoughtful glance before turning back to all the gathered items.

"We could do with more food and a couple of our weapons are losing their edge, but I believe that we can make it back to Future Foundation so long as we are not held up here for more than a few more days," he spoke half to himself. She found herself smiling at his assessment.

"Well, just say the word and I can go scavenging," Ryoko proudly intoned. That had been her "job" so to speak. Scavenging for odds and ends, sometimes stumbling upon something really nice and other times turning up nothing. Even if it wasn't always fruitful, it still made her feeling like she was contributing. Like she belonged. With a pleased nod, she left Taka to his thinking and stepped back into the main room.

This was the third day in a row that there had been a Remnant alarm, and each time Ryoko was reminded that there was so little of anything to do. It was a wonder that such usual busy-bodies like Taka and Mukuro were even able to stand the long, crushing silence and grueling wait. Ryoko knew that she, at the very least, couldn't. She picked her journal up from the couch and opened it back up. On the nearest blank page, she began to sketch her surroundings. Everything, from Yasuhiro's wild hair all the way to Mukuro's pouches full of ammunition. Even the dingy, peeling wallpaper, which was patterned with tiny yellow flowers.

'You're really good."

"Eep!" Ryoko jumped in surprise and clamped a hand over her mouth as she screeched. Turning around, she found Makoto standing behind her, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized. "You're a very talented artist, though. It's really impressive."

"I feel like you somehow always say that..." Ryoko murmured under her breath. "Thank you, though. I don't really remember if I could draw well before, but it's just muscle-memory, right? So, I guess I must've been at least this good prior to, you know... everything."

"Your sketches from before The Tragedy seem to back that up," Makoto agreed. Sketches from before... Ryoko wasn't even convinced that the journal she carried was really her's. Of course, all the details matched up, but she had seemed so different and, truthfully, idiotic. It would be so easy to write it all off, if not for one small thing. The last entry from before she forgot. It read -

_They will forget._  
_I know who's reading this._  
_Don't abandon the plan,_  
_or I will kill you,_  
_Ryoko Otonashi._

Those words sent a spear of cold straight to her heart. They will forget. And, in fact, they did. Then, the chilling second line. I know who's reading this. Who? Who knew?! But, it was the last sentence that made her freeze in her tracks. Don't abandon the plan, or I will kill you, Ryoko Otonashi.

What did it all mean? Who... wrote that? And why?

These were questions Ryoko was still grappling herself. Those written words, in the same hand as her past self, were no concrete confirmation of her identity. But, they perfectly predicted her situation. Worse; they threatened her with death if she did not comply. She may not've been sure if she was actually Ryoko, but she certainly felt threatened nonetheless. But how was she meant to "not abandon the plan" if she didn't remember what that plan was to begin with??

"Umm... Ryoko?" Makoto's worried voice snapped her back into reality, and the redhead quickly realized that Yasuhiro and Mukuro were also looking at her with similarly unsettled expressions.

"Huh? O-oh, it's fine," she waved off their worry. "I was just thinking. I'll be in the bedroom if anyone needs me." Ryoko then disappeared down the short hall. However, two specific people were still able to make out the bleached-blonde tips of her hair as they receded into darkness.

...

"-will see her as a danger," one voice reasoned. "She can't go there." A second voice sighed in defeat.  
"I know, but what other choice do we have?" the second voice asked desperately, their voice barely above a whisper.  
"Look, all I know is that she's someone worth protecting," the first voice replied, steely and determined. "Even if it means defection, I won't give up. Not now, and not ever." A pair of green eyes met the choking, night-time maroon sky without a word.  
"... Then I wish you the best of luck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter again, but this was more for the purpose of planting the seeds for future plots and such  
> Feel free to give me suggestions!


	5. Forced Defection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna say a lot,  
> But things do indeed happen

"Hurry! This way!" One voice echoed amongst the deafening roar. Chunks of building crumbled away and plummeted from the sky, impacting the ground left and right of where Ryoko was running. One in particular landed just behind her, brushing against her ankle slightly, though it wasn't enough to slow her pace. As she reached the city limits and the endless line of rusty, abandoned cars, Mukuro noticed her hesitation.

"Don't worry about the others! They can take care of themselves. We'll catch up to them later," she promised, but her voice was too devoid of anything for Ryoko to really take her at her word. Still, she continued running. Dodging cars proved to be troublesome, and since Mukuro insisted they get out as soon as possible, the two took to jumping around of the tops of the cars instead.

Finally, after what felt like an impossible marathon, the cars began to dwindle in numbers until, at long last, they were out of the city walls. But even then, they didn't stop. They ran until the road banked a sharp right and forked off, and they decided that there, six miles out of the city, they might be safe enough to take a break. As she hurried to catch her breath and Mukuro handed her a water bottle, Ryoko had to wonder why her day went this way.

…

"What? _Another_ Remnant alarm?" Ryoko asked. crossing her arms. "This is the fourth day in a row. Surely they've lost interest by now." Makoto shook his head.

"Sadly, they haven't," he spoke, voice disheartened and tired. "Mukuro spotted one of them again while she was patrolling this morning." He motioned to the once Ultimate Soldier by his side whose face was grimmer than usual. Ryoko directed her scarlet gaze onto her in scrutiny.

"Are you sure you weren't just seeing things? Because I haven't noticed anything," Ryoko interrogated. She was growing suspicious of this new routine. "Taka and Yasuhiro both said that they haven't seen anything either. Not hide or hair of anything that has to do with the Remnants," she continued. She narrowed her eyes, staring sharply at both of them, but mostly Mukuro. She was, after all, the one who'd supposedly seen the Remnants for the past three days. On the first day, however, it had been Makoto, so he was still under suspicion. But, Ryoko felt as though she could trust him, so he was more or less off the hook. Mukuro shook her head.

"I know what I saw," she stated firmly. "We have a job in protecting you. Out part is keeping you safe, and yours is trusting us with that. Without one part, we cannot guarantee that you will make it to Future Foundation."

"I didn't ask for you to coddle me, though! You've only told me the basics of what's become of the world, most of which you wouldn't elaborate on in any detail. I don't even really know what the Remnants are remnants _of_! You guys will only ever say a bunch of gibberish with 'hope' or 'despair' thrown in there!" Ryoko accused. Makoto's hurt expression and Mukuro's sudden, frosty demeanor change did make her feel bad. But, if they expected her to trust them, then they needed to really answer her questions, not dodge them!

She was getting so frustrated with tired little "We'll tell you later"s and patronizing "You don't need to know"s. Makoto broke the growing silence with a tiny sigh.

"Look, I know that we haven't been entirely truthful with you, Ryoko," he started. Ryoko could feel her hopes rise as her demands were finally being addressed. However - "But right now, we need to focus on safety first. We'll tell you everything you want as soon as we can get out of here." Those two sentences crushed those hopes into nothing but pure, unadulterated despair. Ryoko could feel her body grow stiffer and more on edge, and judging by the look on Makoto's face, she could tell that she wore a scowl without even realizing it.

"You don't seem to understand this situation," Mukuro harshly interjected. Her eyes were as cold as stone, and the same color, too. But, there was an undeniable fierceness in both her posture and her features that only strengthened as she walked right up to Ryoko and got in her face. "If you want answers, then let me make sure you have one thing straight. This is a battlefield. If you continue to act this way, you will be killed. And we won't come back to protect you. You will die, and we will go on without you." A hot flash of indignation and unfettered rage swelled inside Ryoko.

She felt her face turn a bright red, not knowing whether it was from embarrassment or rage, and not really caring either way. She squared her shoulders and bunched her hands into tight fists, careful to keep her thumb on the inside so she wouldn't accidentally break her knuckles. This also gave her the added benefit of improving her fists' overall strength. And, with a deep breath, she raised her fist and -

A long crack split the air and Makoto, shaken from his shock at seeing Ryoko about to clock Mukuro right in the face, rushed to the nearby window to see what it was. Ryoko could see his eyes widen in pure terror as he saw the crack's source.

"We need to go. _Now_ ," he suddenly demanded, tone carrying an edge to it that Ryoko had never heard before. That shook her out of her rage long enough to realize that she was shaking in her boots, and also to see Mukuro had already joined Makoto. Ryoko raced over too, and her red gaze landed on what was causing such a commotion.

It was a blimp. A blimp that just so happened to be on fire. And one that was making a direct beeline for the apartment they were currently occupying. There were also a couple planes - jets, maybe? - circling higher up in the bloody sky with small, shiny black attachments on their sides.

_Bombs_.

Before she could react, her wrist was grabbed and she was already being led outside. A brief glimpse of hair darker than the night sky, and she knew it was Mukuro. Ryoko thought she heard someone say something about getting Taka and Yasuhiro, but it was drowned out by the increasing harmony of destruction outside. Everything beyond that was a blur.

…

She could see flames, perched on cement constructs and lapping at the sky like a million orange tongues. The sight was so surreal, Ryoko still couldn't wrap her head around it. It really didn't make any sense. 'Why bomb the city...?' A hand tapped her shoulder lightly, beckoning for Ryoko's attention. When she looked over, she realized that it was Mukuro. The other girl was heavily disheveled, hair tossed about and clothes oddly twisted in places, her chest heaving with every breath.

"Let's find... some shelter," she spoke. Her voice was softer than Ryoko had ever heard it, and it inspired a strange feeling of something akin to solicitude - perhaps even maternity - in her. Despite their earlier quarrel, the redhead found herself nodding without complaint at the suggestion. They began a sluggish trek in complete silence. Ryoko quickly took to monitoring her own steps as she carried on at a meager pace, just an arm's length behind Mukuro.

When she next looked at the sky, she noticed that it had grown darker, and that the moon now cast it's pale glow in place of the blazing sun.

It was night.

Ryoko also noted that she was shivering, but didn't pause. They needed somewhere to stay, and fast.

Everything else could wait for later.

The landscape had changed into that of a dead forest. Slate grey, withered trunks with cold, twining branches filled her sight, making the already paltry light even scarcer.

"Look." Mukuro pointed forward, to a large tangle of fallen trunks and struggling green undergrowth. It was coordinated in a mediocre heap, a small space just barely visible in the front. Though not the best fit, the makeshift shelter seemed to cover many bases.

It was inconspicuous, for one. It also provided shelter, however poor, from wind and rain. A better location would be preferable, but a dead forest seemed pretty remote. Ryoko doubted that anyone, friend or foe, would easily find them here.

With only the company of each other, the two girls crawled their way inside. It was pitch black, save for the placid light seeping through the few cracks in the wood stretching over their heads. It was also very low to the ground - you could barely crane your neck without rubbing against grizzled wood.

But, at that moment, Ryoko didn't mind. Mukuro didn't seem to either, as she made a small sound of approval and proceeded to make herself comfortable on the dirt floor. Ryoko soon joined her, hearing the faintest chirping of crickets as sleep pulled her under.

...

"Wake up," a strange voice intoned. As Ryoko's consciousness gradually returned, she only grew more and more bewildered. That didn't sound like Makoto or Taka. Not even Yasuhiro. Or, for that matter, Mukuro. It was similar to her's, but it was very clearly a man's voice. Ryoko opened her eyes, curious and afraid to find the answer to this epiphany, and saw ruby red.

"Gah!" she exclaimed and jumped back, mind now on high alert. There was a stranger before her. From far away, he could probably be mistaken for a girl with his long, dark hair. But, no, the person before her was definitely a man. He wore a nice suit that had seen some better days, along with a pair of dress shoes. His face was more like a mask, permanently engraved in a neutral expression. It was his eyes, though, that caught Ryoko's attention. Ruby red, so very much like her own. They stared at her with a brumous fire Ryoko had yet to encounter since her awakening.

"Hmm..." The stranger just watched her analytically. Like he was studying an animal. Impartial. "You are... interesting." Ryoko only backed up further at that comment. Interesting? What did that mean?

"What do you want?" she hazarded a question, voice quaking. He proceeded to continue staring blankly at her. It was only then, for some reason, that Ryoko realized that she wasn't in their shelter. Instead, she was on the forest ground, shelter nowhere in sight, surrounded by small dead and dying plants of little variety.

"I will not kill you," he settled on. "No, I won't kill you... You interest me," he continued mumbling to himself.

"H-huh? What does that m-?"

"Get away from her!" a formidable cry cut Ryoko off, and her body visibly relaxed as she caught sight of Mukuro, who was fearlessly pointing a pistol at the stranger. The stranger didn't even acknowledge Mukuro's entrance. He only narrowed his eyes and repeated his earlier statement.

"I won't kill her," he said again, now turning to look Mukuro dead in the eyes, expression still vacant. Mukuro kept her gun trained on his head.

"And how can I trust your word? Your group tried to kill us yesterday," Mukuro retorted.

"Wait. 'Your group'?" Ryoko interjected. Mukuro nodded, but didn't tear her eyes from the threat.

"Yes. This is one of the Remnants we've warned you about, _Ryoko_ ," the other girl explained, placing an odd emphasis on her name. Was she still upset over their fight yesterday? Wait, no! That wasn't important right now!

"Y-you're a... Remnant?" Ryoko echoed in disbelief. Not that he wasn't plenty creepy or scary, but she expected a thug-type more than... this. She wasn't sure if the stranger heard her or not, as he didn't reply to her words.

"I no longer associate with despair," was his reply instead. Mukuro looked surprised for about three seconds, but quickly shook it off.

"Again. How am I supposed to believe you?" The stranger had no answe for that either, it seemed. He only turned back to face Ryoko. She had no idea what was going on, but... she believed him. It was stupid of her, yes, but he just... seemed genuine. Ryoko didn't know how else to place it.

"It's okay Mukuro, I believe him," she found herself saying. Mukuro snapped to her in utter disbelief.

"What?!"

"Well... I guess 'believe' is a strong word... It's more like I don't think he's lying. I don't really know why, but I don't think he's a bad person," Ryoko elucidated. Mukuro still didn't seem swayed by her words. "If you don't trust him, then how about this? I take full responsibility over him, including getting him food and water, as well as watching him to make sure he doesn't do anything potentially... despair-inducing. Is that all right?" The other girl only shook her head.

"No. He is dangerous and will get us both killed." The raven-haired girl's dictation had authority to it, like a school teacher to a child, or a boss to an employee. Ryoko knew not to challenge it. "Now, get out of here before I blow your brains out." The stranger picked himself up almost immediately, dusted off his nice suit, and left without a word. The girls were just left there, Ryoko on the ground and Mukuro holding a gun.

Oh yes, it was going to be a _long_ day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew...  
> That was a lot ^^' Not sure if I really like this chapter, or if I hate it...  
> Things certainly took a turn for the worst though, huh? Tell me what you think about this new development!


	6. Constellation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryoko and Izuru have a little chat :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out! D:  
> I think it may be worth it, though.

The noon sun was almost bearable under the thin shade provided by the whip-like branches. Ryoko sat there, alone, atop the ashy soil, ridden with sickly yellow and brown plants that crunched under her whenever she shifted her position.

_It's been a few days._

She begun with that sentence in her journal. And, indeed, it had. The distant city, now having disappeared over the horizon line, had ceased it's smoking. But there was still no sign of the others. Ryoko had urged Mukuro to let her go out and look, but the other girl seemed content to deny her wishes. She was just like a bossy upperclassman, or something of the sort, taking advantage of her seniority in order to get what she wanted.

But, a purely rational part of Ryoko knew that her demands were not unfounded - Ryoko herself didn't think it was safe to leave the dead forest either. In the end, desire trumped reason. The opposite was true for Mukuro. So, Ryoko couldn't be very mad.

Perhaps that, then, was what gave her this frustration.

She hadn't run into the strange man since then. She didn't even know his name, as Mukuro had denied her that knowledge. Ryoko still believed that she could've kept an eye on him. He could prove to be more useful than Mukuro may think, really. But, she lost her chance. Now, Ryoko just sat, all alone.

She was supposed to be scavenging, but the temptation to feign unsuccessfulness and not do anything was too great to pass. She didn't feel like doing much of anything recently. Whereas life once spurred her into action, it now seemed to leave her on the sidelines. Empty. Without purpose. Ryoko sighed.

It was almost _too boring_ to _bear_.

She slumped further against the trunk. 'What makes me so untrustworthy?' she asked herself internally. They were so selfish... No one had explained things when she'd asked, or even humored her opinions. She just felt like they made her into a burden.

"Augh!" She slapped her forehead with her palm, leaving a slightly red mark as she went to examine her hand. 'No,' she decided, closing her hand into a fist. 'I won't let it happen anymore. I can't. If everyone else can do things by themselves, then I can't fall behind!'

"I definitely won't be the weak link!" she yelled, not realizing she had vocalized her thoughts until she heard a faint shuffling. Someone was here. Who? Not one of the other Future Foundation members. Makoto's step were even, but loud, and he was prone to tripping. Taka strode with purpose and dignity, so unlike these footsteps, he'd have no reason to conceal himself. Yasuhiro was far too carefree to even consider sneaking, but even if he did, Ryoko imagined that he'd perform poorly.

No... these steps were light, almost distant-sounding. They stepped in time with the light breeze and the crackling plants, sneakily and steadily growing closer, until... Red eyes, seeming to glow in the shade, appeared from behind the dead tree.

"...Am I interrupting something?" a stilted voice asked. It sounded like he hadn't spoken for days, and very minimally beforehand. There was no crack to it, though. It was perfect. Flawless. Terrifying. So terrifying, in fact, that Ryoko screamed and flew back a couple inches, finding herself back in the sunlight. The stranger didn't flinch or wince - he provided absolutely no reaction of any sort to her outburst. Still trembling, Ryoko raised a finger in recognition.

"I-it's you!" she shrieked. The suit he wore was just as immaculate as when they'd first encountered. There wasn't a single speck of dirt on it, and it was entirely free of stains as well. The same could be said of his pants, and even his shoes. One glance, and you'd think he wasn't in the wastelands of a post-apocalyptic world. How truly terrifying. He barely gave her the tiniest of nods in relation to her remark. She still didn't know at all how to talk to him... But could she really blame herself? She'd only met him once before this.

"U-umm..." She tried to bide her time, let her thoughts settle and sort out what she wanted to say. It was all so sudden that she could barely hold onto ideas for questions, but then a fragment of her earlier thoughts drifted back to her. She didn't want to be a useless burden. Suddenly, she had a clear mind and much to ask.

"What do you know about The Tragedy? Anything could be useful, since I don't really have a great understanding of it," she prompted. The stranger didn't speak, but moved closer to her and squatted to be closer to Ryoko's eye level. His hair formed a dark wave around him, cocoon-like in nature.

"It was a manmade effort to incite global despair. The Ultimate Despair organized a group for such ends, which was also know as the Ultimate Despair," the stranger told, still monotone and cold, much like a computer.

"The Ultimate Despair? What did the group do?" Ryoko continued. She was unnerved that the strange man was so close to her, but too content to finally have answers to complain.

"We traveled the world, usually killing people. Most of our methods were deemed 'cruel and unusual' by the general populous," he answered, not missing a beat. His gaze was as sharp as a knife, and as daunting as one too. It pierced deep into Ryoko's soul, gaging her thoughts and personality with the utmost of ease. Ryoko shivered uncomfortably under his eyes' scrutiny, but managed to squeak out yet another question.

"You were a part of the Ultimate Despair, yes?" The stranger nodded stiffly, motion just noticeable enough for Ryoko to actually see it. "So... what made you quit...?" Silence. Nothing moved for many long, long seconds. Ryoko held her breath, aware that her face was growing red, but too on-edge to release it.

The stranger just stared at her. Ruby eyes, scarred with so much bloodshed that they now reflected the liquid pain of his many victims. They were the eyes of someone who was broken. Someone who had broken others. With a burst of adrenaline, Ryoko dared to exhale. Then, he spoke.

"Junko Enoshima's death." It was a simple phrase. Quaint. Comprehensible.

But it made no sense to Ryoko Otonashi, the Ultimate Analyst.

"Her-her _death_?!" she sputtered. She knew that her face must look priceless, as a glint of some sort appeared briefly in the strange man's eyes.

"Yes," he intoned, reaffirming his earlier statement. "For all intents and purposes, Junko Enoshima is dead. That is why I quit."

Ryoko sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. Junko was dead. She let that statement sink in slowly, unable to decipher it's meaning.

Junko Enoshima. _She was dead_.

Somehow, she couldn't wrap her head around it. Ryoko had been warned time and time again by the Future Foundation crew that Junko was alive, well and lethal. They cautioned her on the Ultimate Despair often - too often to count. But... she was dead? Then... What did that mean?

"You haven't asked my name," the stranger was quick to disturb her thoughts, dragging Ryoko back to the present with his heartless droning. After a few moments, his words registered.

"Ah! That's true!" Ryoko realized, suddenly feeling embarrassed. She proposed so many inquiries, but somehow failed to catch even the man's name! She shook her head. "What _is_ your name?"

"Izuru Kamukura," came the cool reply. A reply so cold, it almost froze Ryoko to the bone. Izuru Kamukura. The one she'd been looking into shortly before losing her memory. He... was right there?

"I was looking for you." The words came out before Ryoko had the time to process them. "You... You caused the tragedy at Hope's Peak. The first one." Izuru shook his head.

"No. Enoshima organized it, and I merely participated," he denied, eyes and tone full of frigid venom.

"So you were her scapegoat..." she murmured to herself, not paying any mind to her companion. That was a rather interesting tidbit... Something clicked in the back of Ryoko's mind, old machinations turning in darkness, now reawakened. "Like me." She didn't look at Izuru, but could feel his intense gaze boring into her from above.

Glimmers of memories and fragments of thoughts raced inside her head, creating a constellation she couldn't yet comprehend. It was a bear. A plushie, chibi bear with a funny eye and a wide smile on one side. It was a face. An immaculate face, beautifully framed by two twin ponytails. It was... a door. No, two - maybe three? They were ephemeral, fleeting lights that flickered unreliably, beckoning Ryoko forth. _Beckoning..._

A rustle. Breathing. Movement. Life. _A person_. Black and white and _all encompassing and_ -

"What are you doing?" Mukuro's voice shattered Ryoko out of her intense concentration. She was knelt in front of the redhead, staring at her with what one might call a concerned expression on her face. Ryoko didn't know how to respond.

"Uhhh..." The words died in her throat, unsure of what to vocalize. Mukuro sighed deeply, face serious and stern once again.

"If you have time to daydream, then you have enough time to keep looking. I'm going to head back. I'll see you there." She got up, turned and left, not sparing even the tiniest turn of her head to continue addressing Ryoko as she walked off. Ryoko just sat there, dumbfounded yet again. What... was that? And...

_Where did Izuru go?_

As she got up and dusted herself off, Ryoko missed the bleached blonde ends of her hair while her mind was consumed by thoughts of Izuru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh boy, more foreshadowing? And more mysteries?? Maybe? I wonder where this is going to lead...


	7. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploring the dynamic between Ryoko, Izuru and Mukuro ;3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to do a chapter about these two sisters!

The lonesome sounds of the crackling embers kept Ryoko awake, despite the rather calm, quiet night. The shelter was coming along nicely enough, Mukuro having dug into the ground in order to give them a space that was around the height of a tent, and about double the size. Ryoko was glad that they could now sit up and not smack their heads or get a face full of rotting wood, not to mention the fact that they could now start fires safely, but...

Something was off.

A strange feeling nagged at the back of her mind, and she was sure that Mukuro could feel it too, since her gainsboro eyes were trained exclusively on the aforementioned fire instead of being closed. The air was heavy and tense, unease and drowsiness not helping any. Before long, Ryoko found herself facing Mukuro, gazing into the fire from it's opposing side and staring into grey eyes, trying to gauge the raven-haired girl's thoughts.

"You did a good job," came a soft whisper. Ryoko could barely tell that it came from herself, it was almost noiseless. Mukuro continued to stare into the wrangling orange flames, expression still unreadable.

"Thank you," she finally spoke up. Her eyes met Ryoko's own red ones, and the redhead felt a goofy grin work it's way onto her face in response. Something about Mukuro made Ryoko feel safe... Like Mukuro was home. A familial presence.

_Like a sister_.

"You did well, too," Mukuro continued. At first glance, it was easy to assume that she was completely detached. But Ryoko, ever the analytic, noticed the glimmer in her eyes. Saw the trust in her movements, now growing sleepy and not fighting to keep her established dominance. She could forget, for a moment, their fight back in the city. The grin widened.

"Thank you," she spoke back. Firelight illuminated Mukuro's weary, dirty face, igniting a flame of sympathy in Ryoko. But, a chilling thought worked it's way through her brain. It snuffed out the sympathy and reminded Ryoko of her goal - to get answers. Now was the perfect time to manipulate Mukuro into talking. She just needed to make it seem innocuous and light, and the other girl would comply.

Hopefully.

It didn't make her feel very proud, but... This was what _she wanted_.

"Hey, uh, Mukuro?" Ryoko began, searching the other's face. She was met with nothing more than a raised eyebrow and a small noise. "Umm... Are you sure you don't remember me?" Mukuro's eyes lost their drowsy softness at that line, and Ryoko scrambled to amend her mistake. "I mean! I-I feel like I know you, so..." Mukuro released a breath Ryoko wasn't aware she was holding, then shifted positions onto her back, looking up at the maroon sky.

"I'm not sure," she responded after a brief pause. Then, her face hardened and she turned back to the redhead, her eyes now glinting with a ferocious might. "But I'm sure of one thing. I will protect you, Ryoko. For however long it may last." With that said, she flipped onto her back once more and, this time, closed her eyes. Ryoko felt a raging undercurrent of disappointment that she hadn't gotten any more information out of Mukuro, but a part of her seemed reassured by the gesture and glad that her questionable plan didn't pan out anyway, and encouraged her to get some sleep.

Without much complaint, Ryoko complied.

* * *

The next day began differently than most of them had. Ryoko awoke to the smell of cooking meat, and soon realized that Mukuro was... making breakfast. Shaking off sleep at the odd sight, Ryoko couldn't stifle a yawn while she moved in closer to inspect. Inside a frying pan - one that Yasuhiro had been using as a weapon, Ryoko had to remind her sleepy self - was some spam, sizzling and popping with heat. She began drooling without even thinking about it, licking her lips to keep herself from looking like some starved animal and more like a girl with some amount of dignity. Mukuro, perceptive as ever, noticed her and craned her head back to meet Ryoko's eyes.

"I figured we should have a warm meal today," she explained, voice just a bit too quiet and unsure to truly count as monotonous. "So, I decided to try frying some of this stuff up. It's not very healthy, but it's just about all we have for now." The other girl proceeded to add some shriveled mushrooms to the spam - mushroom that, Ryoko noted with some pride, she herself had found while scavenging yesterday.

"Well, it smells great! I can't wait!" Ryoko exclaimed. She was buzzing with excitement like a child, and felt a sudden burst of energy accompany her good mood. An idea popped into her mind in time with the cooking meat. "I think I'm going to go look around a bit more, see if I can find anything else. Call me when it's done!" Mukuro nodded, attention directed towards Ryoko as the redhead left the fort, climbing out through the small opening and into the red-soaked world. It put a damper on her mood to see things like this, but she wasn't about to let that ruin her day.

Pulling out a sandwich-sized zip-lock bag, one she'd put her collectables into when picking stuff up, she began her walk through the woods. The dead trees seemed somehow brighter today, all the same shade as Mukuro's eyes. Even their knobby, tendril-like branches, arching over her in a vain attempt to block out the sky, were somehow endearing to her. The redhead looked around, squatting down when she saw something worth taking, and before long, she had about a third of the bag full of more withered mushrooms and some berries that Mukuro had taught her were safe to eat.

"A little bit more, and I can go blow Mukuro's socks off!" Ryoko cheered in glee. Her celebrating stopped briefly, however, when a dark shape snuck out of a nearby bush. Ryoko jumped, but let out a sigh of relief upon finding it to be Izuru. And then she got freaked out again, because he was stalking her in the middle of the woods and might actually be a creeper and _whydidn'tshenoticethatabouthimbeforeshe'ssostupidohmygod_ -

"Good morning," he greeted, voice as emotionless and vapid as a dead snake. Ryoko blinked at him a few times, still trying to quell her rampaging thoughts. Finally, she spoke up.

"Izuru! I've been looking for you!" Ryoko pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Ever since you disappeared a couple days ago, I've been combing these woods day and night!"

"I saw that." Izuru's face didn't move an inch. Annoyance was now mixed with confusion, and Ryoko had to struggle a bit not to let it show on her face.

"Where have you been?" she asked, eyebrows still lowered in feigned anger and arms crossed. Izuru pointed at the bush he had crawled out of, and Ryoko felt a palpable shiver run down her spine. "Y-you... were stalking me?!"

"More or less," Izuru replied nonchalantly. The redhead took a justifiable step back, her opinion on Izuru twisted in a way she never expected but should've seen coming, but then he did something unexpected yet again. He revealed a respectably-sized rabbit in his right hand, which Ryoko hadn't even noticed until then, what with it's ashy grey coloring. She stared at it blankly in surprise before shaking her head to clear her light stupor.

"Is that... for me?" Ryoko guessed, now pointing at the rabbit in question. She couldn't see a clear method of death - there was no blood or even scars. Heck, even it's neck was well and good. If someone told Ryoko just then that the rabbit was actually alive, she'd probably believe them. But it was too still. No twitching, or rise and fall of it's chest. It was oddly profound, in an almost funny way. Ryoko looked up to see Izuru's eyes, and found him already nodding his response to her question.

"I saw your supplies," he informed, still without a care for personal privacy, among other things. "It looked like you may need this." He held up the dead mammal for reference and emphasis, and though his expression hadn't moved an inch, there was a bit of emotion in his eyes. Exasperation, no - maybe amusement? - Maybe even _humor_ at her misfortune? 'No wonder this guy was part of the Ultimate Despair. He loves to watch people squirm.' Ryoko internally shivered at the thought.

But, back in reality, Izuru was already shoving the dead rabbit into her hands mercilessly, not caring about the hygiene of such an action. It took a moment for Ryoko to realize, but once she snapped back, she screamed and dropped the dead animal. After a couple moments of trying not to hyperventilate, she looked up and the redhead realized that Izuru was already gone without a trance. She glared at the place he'd been standing.

"Creepy jerk," she chided under her breath. Her crimson gaze fell back onto the dead rabbit, and a shudder made it's way down her spine, settling into the pit of her stomach as unease and queasiness. With a palpable gulp, and while pointedly looking away, she reached down and grabbed the hind feet, making a retching noise in the process. The journey back couldn't be more miserable.

* * *

By the time she returned, the sky was blotting with inky clouds - what looked to be the beginnings of a rainstorm. Mukuro was hunched over the fire, pan still in hand, cooking up what seemed to be... very, very burnt bark? Before she could get a question out, Mukuro was already discarding the charred remains into the fire. Ryoko decided not to question it.

"I'm back," Ryoko announced. She was still holding the zip-lock bag, now closed, and the rabbit, held an arm's length away from the rest of her body. Mukuro turned around to face her, eyes naturally gravitating to the sizable prey in the redhead's possession.

"Where did you find that?" the raven-haired girl asked, face unmoving, a look of suspicion written all over her face. Ryoko considered, for a moment, lying to her. It would be easy and simple, and she was sure she could come up with something pretty convincing. But, Makoto and Mukuro's words back in the city rang in her mind. Trust... Who could she trust? Future Foundation? Makoto? Izuru? Mukuro?

Her mind ran in circles and circles, but she eventually decided. Ryoko knew very few things. One of those things was that she didn't want to die. Mukuro would protect her - for better or worse - if things took a dark turn. She had to at least try to reciprocate that.

"Izuru gave it to me," she answered honestly.

Ryoko could almost see Mukuro's blood turn to ice.

"Throw it out." It was an order. Ryoko didn't like orders.

"And why should I? It's free food," she reasoned. Mukuro wasn't listening.

"I said throw it out."

"And _I said_ , why should I?!"

"Because I told you to!" Mukuro's final cry quieted even the restless rustling of the barren trees and fallen leaves, the world seeming to freeze in that moment. Ryoko opened her mouth to argue, but knew it wouldn't get her anywhere. With a red face and infuriated expression, she tossed the gift out the small opening, just as rain began to fall outside.

The two ate their breakfast in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also wanted to show Ryoko's moral struggle and her naivety, since those themes will be explored upon further in the story :7 Tell me if you enjoyed!


	8. Dreams and Perpetual Moping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moping leads to dreaming, which leads to...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter today! Sorry!

The following morning was quaint, but Ryoko was hardly in any mood to appreciate it. The day before, she and Mukuro had fought all day, off and on. She'd be lying if she said that she wanted to do _anything_ for the raven-haired look-alike anytime soon. That's how she found herself still on the cold, hard ground, even as light began to filter down into their little base. Even as Mukuro ate her own breakfast of left-over spam and berries in silence.

Even as the day moved on without her.

It wasn't fair, she decided. But, then again, life wasn't supposed to be fair anyway. At least, that's what all crumby adults said.

Ryoko hated many things, but that most of all.

"Are you going to get up?" Mukuro asked her from the fire, voice back to it's enigmatic state from when they first met. Or, when they reunited? Ryoko couldn't be sure of either.

Anything could be fact at this point.

She couldn't see the other girl, as her back was to the fire, but she could only imagine the expression Mukuro was wearing. A sigh.

"I see. I'll be out, then." Without further speech, the crunch of footsteps receded into nothingness, and Ryoko could finally chance cracking open an eye. She flipped to her other side, peering at the remaining berries and mushrooms in the bag - _her bag_. But, she didn't feel up to eating them. She didn't feel up to _anything_ , really. Instead, she just closed her eyes once more and, this time, sleep overtook her.

-

It's... a rabbit.

I notice it very quickly when I step into the first bundle of wildflowers, protected by the thinnest layer of dew from the night before.

It's grey and white in equal portions, patchwork patterns crisscrossing in large, simple squares across it's whole hide.

It eats in silence, dark eyes scanning the surroundings for danger.

I creep closer and closer, taking care with my movements.

A breeze passes by, I take a step.

A rustle rings out from the surrounding forest, I take a step.

I can almost touch it now. I pluck some of the grass that it's not munching, holding it out to feed it.

The rabbit's ears flip in my direction like a tossed coin.

As it turns to face me, I can't help but notice it's fearful face. It makes me feel... joy and hate, a resounding symphony of syzygies that rings loudest in my head, and then follows in echoes within my hollow chest.

I hold out the grass and the rabbit sniffs it, as though suspicious.

What would _I_ do?

One bite, then two.

The seconds tick by impatiently.

Then, without warning, the rabbit bites my finger.

Somehow... there is no blood.

No pain.

I don't even flinch.

I just begin laughing. It's so, so _funny_! _Hilarious_!

The rabbit begins convulsing violently, falling to it's side in the grass, the greenery covering up the largest patch of white on it's back. I look at it for what feels like an eternity that never reaches an impasse, rationally observing.

I lend no hand to the rabbit, nor it to me.

I accept it.

And it accepts _this_.

Then, as quickly as it began, it stops.

Forever.

It's amusing, in only the way the end can ever be.

I continue watching, even as the sun sets over the hidden horizon - the horizon that I can't see. I can't bring myself to tear my eyes away.

It's only now that I realize my lack of a heartbeat -

And the fact that I'm crying.

-

Ryoko awoke violently to someone shaking her as thunder rumbled in the background, crimson eyes flying open and lithe hands almost smacking the person grabbing her by the shoulders. Of course, that person was Mukuro. Upon seeing her, Ryoko froze, but quickly steeled herself and pushed Mukuro off. As she opened her mouth to say something, she noticed that something was... wrong. Mukuro looked pale - more so than usual. She was sweating bullets and her eyes looked hazy and unfocused. Ryoko looked up through a small opening, seeing that it was evening. What had happened?!

"R-Ryoko..." the aforementioned weakly breathed. Ryoko was about to question her, but Mukuro just up and keeled over, falling onto the ground with a hard thud. Now more panicked than confused, Ryoko rushed over, feeling Mukuro's forehead. She was burning up. Mukuro's eyes fluttered open, ever so slowly finding their way to Ryoko.

"Wh-what happened?!" Ryoko demanded. A small noise escaped Mukuro's throat, but Ryoko couldn't hear it well enough over the downpour outside to understand her, so she leaned in closer.

"S-sick, I think..." Those words - words of such blunt, obvious meaning, struck Ryoko squarely in the heart.

Sick.

Mukuro, the Ultimate Solider - former or otherwise - was _sick_. Her eyes fell shut, her breaths ragged and pained. There was no rattle, though. That only scared the redhead more. Another clap of thunder sounded.

"What am I gonna do...?" Ryoko whispered, methodically situating herself so that she was on her hands and knees. She grasped at her long, matted red hair, squeezing fistfuls as she looked around wildly for something, _anything_ , to help. As much as she didn't really like Mukuro, the other girl was pretty much the only thing keeping her alive at this point, and the only semblance of company. That, and...

There was this feeling, deep in Ryoko's chest. It nagged and ate at her whenever she saw Mukuro. Although dissonance would mask it, the feeling still remained. It was strange really, since Mukuro was nothing more than a useful acquaintance. If so, then...

Why did Ryoko feel such amity and concord towards this rough, candid, straightforward, unpredictable, dependable, turbulent, well-meaning _mess_?!

Mania increasing twice fold, Ryoko caught a glimpse of something very small and grey and _achingly_ familiar peeking in through the main opening. She stumbled her way over to it, throwing off mud and sticks and leaves and, finally, saw what it was that caught her attention.

The rabbit.

Izuru.

Heart set and mind aligned on it's course, Ryoko ran out of the shelter that had become home; out into the pouring rain and thunder and lightning, set out to wash the stained world clean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the simplicity and symbolism in this one, even if it is super short (just barely over 1000 words) ^^'  
> Tell me what you think!


	9. Fortune Turns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryoko and Mukuro's fortune turns.  
> Question is - is it for better, or for worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh!! Sorry I haven't uploaded in over a month! D:  
> This may be more underwhelming than what you all are expecting, but I promise that, with this chapter, the ball is finally rolling again with the overall plot! Woot! Hope you guys enjoy :3

"Izuru!" Ryoko's cry echoed through the perpetual darkness. Her foot snagged momentarily on a slippery root, causing her to fall onto her outstretched arms and hands, but she paid this no mind and got back up. "Izuru!!" She continued running, red hair blending into the thick, blood red sky, making her a streak in the night. It was still pouring, but the ashy clouds had moved farther southwest, though the wind still carried their torrent to the forest. Ryoko was cold and sore, soaked and smeared with mud and leaves. And yet, she was so hot, lungs burning and arms and legs littered with cuts - dozens of tiny incisions and lacerations that she couldn't bring herself to care about in the moment, stinging nonetheless.

" _Please_ , come out!" Ryoko could feel her voice getting hoarse. By her estimations, she'd been out for at least an hour. Panic raced through her at the reminder, getting her tired limbs going once again as she struggled to catch even a ragged breath and pressing on. Crimson eyes scanned the tall, thin shadows of the trees for the one that should be different, but her vision was going dark around the edges, and it was getting harder to focus and move her legs. Her sprint slowed to a gradual limp, her body naturally falling towards something to lean on. Ryoko kept pressing on, though; pushing herself off of trees and out of trenches formed by the rain water. But, eventually, her methodical patter stopped, and she collapsed onto her hands and knees.

Everything hurt, from the tiny cuts all over to her burning lungs - even to her hazy, fried brain that struggled to recognize the specific shadow of a tree, which didn't quite match it's originator.

It began to move. Towards _her_. Creeping steps, evenly paced and without worry, but exercising caution. From the shadow, a red glow was emitted and, in greater light, Ryoko could barely identify the red as eyes.

"I... Izu... ru..." she heaved, eyelids growing heavier with the weight of each second passed. "H-he... help..."

Her eyes finally closed, but her mind didn't rest yet - she still had a mission, after all. Thin, oddly sturdy arms lifted her, and Ryoko's face nuzzled into a chest that was entirely foreign by touch but, by prying her eyes open for no more than a moment, was familiar by sight. It was a fancy, pristine black suit and tie. Long, silvery hair tickled her forehead as her carrier continued in their steps. Ryoko could feel herself slip into the darkness.

And she was one with the night.

-

When Ryoko awoke next, a gentle light painted in a berry color came pouring into her eyes, making her blink dumbly at the sight of many piled old, rotting logs. The base. She'd recognize that smell anywhere. Speaking of smells; Ryoko could pick out a fragrant scent and, using strength mostly derived from hunger, she sat herself up and looked over to see Izuru, in all his strange, fancy glory, squatting over an open fire. In his hand was the frying pan, and what smelled like meat - real, healthy meat, and not whatever they put into those processed cans - sizzled inside. Mukuro, most surprising of all, huddled beside him, Izuru's jacket thrown over her smaller shoulders as a sort of blanket. Mukuro didn't say anything, but she acknowledged Ryoko's awakened state with a glance and some poking of Izuru.

"I know she's up," he stated blandly, not even tearing his eyes away from his work, mouth hardly moving. Ryoko crept over to the two, sitting on her sore legs to keep some modicum of dignity and to try not to accidentally flash Izuru. Her gaze swept the two, landing on Mukuro. The two exchanged uncomfortable glances, but Ryoko steeled herself.

"How are you feeling?" She made the first move. Mukuro opened her mouth, as if she would reply, but a ragged cough cut her off and she just gave an awkward middle-thumbs sign instead.

That couldn't be good.

Ryoko tilted her head. "You can't talk?" Mukuro paused, but quickly shook her head.

"She damaged her throat with all the vomiting," Izuru explained with a matter-of-fact flatness. Ryoko let out a sympathetic sound. Next, she turned to Izuru.

"It's that bad?" she inquired. Izuru didn't move to answer, instead flipping around what looked like a few small cuts of meat in the pan, patches of the red and pink present, but the overall pieces already adopting a golden hue. He then turned to face Ryoko in kind, face betraying nothing.

"She ate something toxic. So, until she gets it out of her system, she'll have to deal with vomiting, which means a lack of hydration as well as nutrition and general body weakness. She won't be leaving here for a few days. And, I imagine, you won't either." Izuru's ruby eyes scanned Ryoko's battered body, and she took a moment herself to truly gauge the damage.

There were many small, shallow cuts and nicks scattered across her legs and arms. Some bruises had formed around the knees and the place where her wrists met her palms. Ryoko could vaguely recollect falling a lot, as the ground was slippery and unstable, so those made sense. There were also a few splinters, and a few spots that looked like they once had thorns inside as well. Oh, that and the sore throat from all the screaming and breathless running. But, that last one was more of an afterthought compared to Mukuro's predicament.

"Yeah," Ryoko chuckled a little. "I think that would be wise..." Mind starting to clear, Ryoko sat up and peered over to the frying pan, looking inside. "What're you cooking?"

"Rabbit," Izuru replied. "It doesn't offer much flavor, but it's less tough compared to other meats, and easier to come by in the area. It also offers more nutrients than the 'food' you two were subsisting on." Ryoko sat back, posture relaxing once more as she leaned on her balled fists.

"You're pretty smart..." she spoke, voice full of admiration. "Where did you learn all of this, anyway?"

"I just knew." An immediate response. Ryoko wanted to ask another question, but Izuru turned away and focused back on cooking. It was an almost polite declination to talk but, coming from Izuru, it felt a little insulting.

Still, she couldn't argue. Izuru had probably saved both her life and Mukuro's.

He really was a strange character, wasn't he? Seemingly uncaring, but deeply interested in Ryoko for reasons unknown, other than her being "interesting" in his opinion. She really couldn't see why Mukuro loathed him with such fervor before. She seemed only to relent when he helped her from a vulnerable position. It was actually pretty funny, in a way - the aloof and decisive ex-soldier finally backing down when she saw that she had no possible ways out, like a stray dog.

Well, Ryoko at least liked him. She felt pretty grateful for his help, and though Mukuro's throat was in pretty nasty shape, she could at least hazard a guess and say that Mukuro probably felt similarly.

"It's ready," Izuru's sudden speech snapped Ryoko out of her thoughts, and drool returned to her mouth in full force. Well, she wouldn't turn away food... With gusto, she dug in the moment Izuru handed her a skewer of sorts with a chunk of meat at the end, not caring if it was unsanitary; _she_ wasn't exactly clean, after all. It was times like these that Ryoko really started missing the running water inside the school, and even the passé bathtub-and-bucket method they'd adopted in their little apartment hideout.

Actually, no, scratch that. Five people bathing in the same water every day, for three days? No thanks, Ryoko would pass that up. It was almost horrifying to think that she'd even considered it to be a good thing in the first place. The redhead fought down the tiniest of shudders as she continued chowing down.

It was as bland as one might imagine. No spices or seasonings, not that there were many readily available, but still. It was pretty soft, Ryoko had to admit, as it didn't get stuck in her teeth. It was comparable to chicken, but with easily double the gaminess. She wasn't complaining, though. Food was food, no matter it's differences. She gulped down her last mouthful, and thanked the chef for the meal with clasped hands. Shortly after, Izuru sent her to look for some certain herbs and such, most of which Ryoko couldn't find.

This pattern continued on for a week at least.

-

As Ryoko opened her eyes, she could already hear a conversation touch her ears, and her heart was flooded with relief. She groggily opened her eyes, turning her head to face what she assumed to be Mukuro and Izuru striking up a friendly conversation. Instead, she had to squint against the harsh light flooding in from the entrance. Izuru was there, talking to someone quietly.

But that someone... _wasn't_ Mukuro.

Their hair was a wild, untamable beast and their voice was nearly muted, but shrill like that of a baby bird. Confused but still sleep-addled, Ryoko turned further to get a better look. At her shift in positions, the stranger's eyes swam in her direction. Two darkened, commodious gems, not unlike Izuru's, met Ryoko's half-cracked own. A shudder ran through her, traveling from her arms and legs up her spine, and finally twinging in her neck.

With this surge of unpleasantness, the claws of slumber nagged on Ryoko, and she was vaguely aware of a strange tickling sensation in the back of her head before they dragged her under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I was gonna stretch out the plot to where the stranger got revealed in the next chapter or two, but I think we've spent enough time here, and it's about time to move on.


	10. Dawn of Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru says many interesting things -  
> When he talks, that is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to take longer to update. I don't want to ruin the story with poor(er) writing ):  
> So, enjoy this new chapter! Yay plot!!

Taking care of Mukuro proved to be a more interesting task than Ryoko had initially surmised. She was courteous and appreciative, and the redhead couldn't help but glow at her modesty. Coming from such a proud, stubborn girl, it was reward enough. Her voice returned in only two days, quality rugged and painful, but back nonetheless. Izuru provided them with food - real, actual food and not just dusty, shriveled berries or funny-tasting canned goods. In fact, Mukuro seemed to recover so quickly that she jumped at the idea of finding food for dinner. Though surprisingly weak in her reasoning, she managed to talk her way out of another day of, in her mind, wasted rest.

Such was the life of a soldier, Ryoko supposed.

And so, the remaining two were left to prep everything else. Izuru had been strangely equipped with paper plates, but no utensils, so they opted to carve their own out of wood - with mixed results. Mukuro wound up just stabbing her food with one of her knives, and Izuru somehow crafted an elegant spoon that he used. Ryoko just ended up with her fingers.

So, Ryoko doled out three paper plates in a circle a reasonable distance from the crackling fire. Izuru gently laid his spoon on one of them, claiming it, and Ryoko sat by another, leaving Izuru to her right and a spot for Mukuro at her left. Now, Izuru didn't talk much - even less so, by some strange irony, as Mukuro began to speak more. But, he would at least attempt to make small talk with Ryoko.

Tonight, on the other hand, appeared to be one of the rare times that rule was broken. Ryoko fidgeted, unsure of what to do. Her gaze darted between Izuru, the cooking mushrooms and the base's entrance. Soon enough, crunches resounded from outside, and the sound of ripping flesh could be heard, even over the fire's yelps.

Mukuro was back, unknown creature in tow.

It didn't take long for her to enter the base, clutching a skinned and gutted animal carcass belonging to that of a racoon suspended between two bark-less branches. This was only evident, however, in the bushy, ringed tail still attached to the corpse. Mukuro set it down gently on another set of two branches, which were the topmost section of a ramshackle stand that Mukuro had thrown together in her sick time.

It was intended to be used more like a table initially, but it was really only big enough to hang bags and medium-to-small animals from, so as to prevent them from just sitting on the nasty ground with who knows how many nuclear germs. Wiping a bit of sweat from her forehead, the ex-soldier joined her compatriots by the fire, claiming the leftover plate.

"I didn't know if you wanted it cut up further, so I just left it on the bones," her voice weakly explained. Izuru nodded curtly, motioning for Mukuro to hand him a knife, which she produced without pause, and kneeling down to get on the racoon's level. Ryoko didn't particularly like this part. No - not for the blood or flesh-slicing.

Ever since that dream, right before Mukuro got sick, she'd been strangely partial to rabbits and creatures of similar variety.

One look, and her brain would tell her that the hunk of freshly butchered meat was actually a cottontail, and then she'd be sent back to that dream's strangeness. She recalled her joy upon seeing the rabbit's fear, her amusement at watching it die. And it _scared_ her. Never before had she acted that way, and never again did she intend to. That was the only thing, of all she knew, that she could be certain of.

They finished dinner with gusto, and Mukuro quickly bid Ryoko and Izuru good night before curling up on her makeshift bed. She must've been exhausted, as her breathing evened out at an unprecedented rate, and soon only two people were left awake. Izuru poked and prodded at the fire with a charcoal-tipped stick, attempting to goad the wood into putting itself out. But these things took time, and Ryoko found herself trapped in an awkward air, wondering if she should just go to bed. Instead, she broke the silence.

"So, why am I so interesting to you?" she pondered softly, watching the fire's flickering waltz. Izuru took a moment to answer.

"Initially, you weren't," he spoke, voice measured the calculated. "It wasn't until I'd heard about _you_ that I grew to find you intriguing to any degree."

"Until you heard about me? What do you mean?" Ryoko asked, now gazing at Izuru with focus. It was quiet and concerting, the air comfortable and warm with the heated coals and embers.

This didn't carry on for long, though.

"There are people who knew you," Ryoko could tell that Izuru was choosing his words carefully, as though he'd just stumbled into a lion's den, "from before you lost your memory."

The uncomfortable but inoffensive atmosphere melted away within moments with the mere utterance of such an emotionless phrase. Ryoko could practically feel her jaw drop to the floor.

"There are people who... knew me?" she asked in a tiny voice. Were Izuru not some kind of superhuman, she was sure he wouldn't have heard it. His only response was a wooden nod. "Can I...? I mean - I want to meet them." Her red eyes didn't move, not even for a second. They were locked into place, as though frozen in a fraction of a moment. They didn't even seem to reflect the fire's tepid, friendly light as they grew colder and colder.

Izuru still didn't speak, nodding stiffly once more before rising to his feet and making his way over to the base's entrance. He peered out the hole, taking in the maroon moonbeams. Ryoko was so stunned, she could barely think. Mukuro had denied her the privilege of knowledge time and time again, and here was Izuru offering it up on a silver platter.

It was too good to be true and she knew it, but this only seemed to strengthen her conviction to even greater heights.

She needed to see them _now_.

Even if... it was all for despair.

_Despair_...

"You're sure?" Izuru clipped, turning to face her. His voice was about as vivid and gut-wrenching as a stone, but his eyes glimmered; in a way and with such a light that Ryoko thought she hadn't seen in them before. "Mukuro won't be joining us." It was a warning. Nothing more, nothing less.

Back out now, or live with your choice.

Ryoko was completely aware that it was a gamble.

After all, Izuru was far from the most trustworthy person she had met since waking up - alas, Makoto was nowhere to be found. However, she held similar feelings for Mukuro.  
Though it made some part of her twinge just a bit on the inside, Ryoko's icy, inanimate gaze remained trained on Izuru without pause or hesitation.

"Yes."

"We leave before dawn," was his only response, turning back to the gap exposing the red night sky. Ryoko could understand his lack of speaking this time around, though, as opposed to the many other occasions of such occurrences. Mukuro's miniscule breaths wrapped the air in tension and secrecy, as though the two awake were conversing about taboo magics, or terrible conspiracies.

Ryoko supposed that one of those two were right, in a way.

But, that brought another new thought to the forefront.

Could she really trust Izuru? _Should_ she?

Hesitation only seemed to flood her now, after all was said and done, preparations made and schedules booked.

But she couldn't back out now -

_This_ was the path she had chosen.

Ryoko crawled away from the dying light with shaky limbs, over to her own makeshift bed bundle, and snuggled herself into the old cloth and various pokey plant materials. She'd need all the sleep she could get if she were to be travelling properly again. So, she lay there until the last cinders popped with heat and a nasty chill touched her pale arms - so late that she was sure that at least an hour had gone by, without even a moment's rest. But, it all grew muddled, and before she could protest, the world fell around her.

-

Ryoko awoke to a painful chill, groaning to herself and searching for her covers with a free hand. They were nowhere to be found and, when she cracked her eyes, she could see Izuru holding them out of reach. His face was pitiless, instead full of purpose.

"It's time," he said. He tossed her sheets to the side, careful to throw them away from the slumbering Mukuro. Ryoko, absolutely freezing, sat up without pause and quickly began gathering her things. As she did so, she noticed that Izuru's small collection of possessions was already missing, and she inwardly cursed his selfishness at only packing his own things. Finally, she had all her things gathered.

Her notebook, which she wrote in from time to time; her bat, with it's odd patterns; some miscellaneous junk like a pen and her scavenging zip-loc (with leftovers). Ryoko shuddered and shook fiercely, especially as she ducked out of the residual heat within the base and out into a frost-covered world. Izuru said nothing, but removed his suit jacket and handed it to Ryoko.

"W-won't you b-be c-c-cold?" she stammered out. Izuru shrugged. She took this as a no, and greedily put it on. It wasn't much warmer than the base, but even that was better than the frost-biting air touching her defenseless arms. As she gradually woke up, Mukuro once again flashed through her mind. She turned to look back at the base as it disappeared behind the frosted trees. A pang of something - perhaps guilt - rumbled low in the pit of her stomach, leaving Ryoko almost tempted to turn around and go back to her. But, she steeled her resolve, and once it was out of sight, she looked back no further.

Izuru was _helping_ her.

She no longer needed Mukuro, who got angry over nothing.

_She didn't need her_.

Ryoko repeated this mantra to herself as they continued along. The ground crunched beneath her boots, and there were even a few spots of razor-thin ice here and there that she nearly slipped on. But no snow had arrived. She had no idea what season it was, but it seemed pretty clear that it was turning from fall to winter. Too bad there weren't any normal trees left to look pretty. A few patches of yellow or orange leaves really would've gone far to make Ryoko feel almost _normal_ again.

They had walked for at least an hour or two before Izuru found them some rocks to sit on, and Ryoko began to snack on whatever leftovers were in her plastic bag.

"We should arrive before noon," Izuru was saying, but Ryoko had begun to tune him out. Her feet were sore from walking, but her legs were aching from the cold. It's dangerous bite had abated, even if only by a few degrees, though Ryoko really began to regret her choice in clothes. Skirts weren't very good at keeping your legs warm, she found.

"Are they nice?" she blurted out. Looking up from her snacking, she found an especially murderous expression on Izuru's face, like she'd just slapped him and then asked him how his day was going. "What's... wrong?"

"You _interrupted_ me," he gritted through his teeth. It was the most emotion Ryoko had seen the strange man produce, and though frightened, it thrilled her. She bowed her head apologetically.

"S-sorry... What were you saying?" she tried again. Izuru narrowed his eyes and let out a tiny huff, only noticeable in the puff of steam his mouth produced.

"As I was saying," he began with a pointed look, "You won't be able to meet all of them, and they may act... odd. Bear their quirks no mind. They'll comply with your wishes, so simply instruct them on how to refer to you and how to act in accordance." Ryoko nodded along dumbly. That implied that they would call her weird names. And if they were going to do that, then what Izuru said about them was true.

They _knew_ her.

Ryoko couldn't shake off her smile - not for the rest of the long, grueling walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I wanted to make this longer... But I couldn't come up with a good segway from the end into another section of text. Still, this turned out pretty long! Woot, progression!! ^^


	11. The Old Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryoko meets some despair, and Izuru continues to be a manipulative jerk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got most of this done ages ago, but I figured that I should probably finish it. If it feels like the chapter cuts off too soon, I'm sorry!

It seemed to get colder and colder with each passing day, Ryoko using Izuru's suit jacket all the time now. Their walks weren't too long, which Ryoko appreciated. But, they'd had to make do with... less than stellar living conditions, continuing on a meager (at best) diet among other things. So, when Ryoko saw tall metal pierce the sky over the horizon line, she rejoiced.

They'd made it.

Getting to the city itself, from there, was child's play. The fields of half-yellowed, overgrown grass were exactly as Ryoko remembered from when she ran through them in the opposite direction. At that point, the city had been bombed, and though the memory of that day was covered in a dense fog, certain aspects stood out to Ryoko like diamonds in the rough.

Mukuro, of course, was among them.

Ryoko hadn't been able to rid herself of the guilt - yes, she'd decided that it _was_ guilt - from leaving Mukuro behind just yet. A long, nagging sort of yearning burned in her chest, threatening to engulf her in flames. She'd been vigilant in dampering it, but it cried out every time she did, which only brought new pain. Izuru had noticed this, she was sure, but made no move to comfort her in any way. In fact, he'd shown virtually no emotion since his little outburst. He hardly even opened his mouth for anything besides food, either. When Ryoko found the timid nibbles of frostbite on his elbows, he didn't respond - he instead gathered some powdered snow which had begun to grace the ground and deposited it in a makeshift cup of sorts. Letting it melt and warm up, he then dunked the afflicted areas into the water without even the shadow of a grimace on his face.

It was starting to worry Ryoko a bit, if she were to be honest. But she knew that Izuru could handle himself. He was practically superhuman as it were.

Wandering the streets wasn't as pleasant as the initial relief of finding the city. They were decrepit and deplete of any semblance of life. The sunset cast ever-lengthening shadows over the gloom and destruction, magnifying it tenfold. The towering structures seemed to ring hollow, their grandeur taken from them in the course of war. Ryoko was beginning to wonder where Izuru was leading her now, their path seemingly random. And then she heard the laughter.

Like a bird's song, the cheery tune filled the empty air. Ryoko could feel individual shivers roll down her back in tandem. She followed Izuru around the corner with pause and consideration weighing her steps. Her heartbeat pulsed percussion along with the joyous music, and it grew in intensity until...

There was a woman with mangled hair and wild eyes, laughing loudly. Standing around her were three others; they didn't join her chorus, but wore similarly stretched smiles on their faces. Aside from the woman, one was a man with shaggy, multi-chromatic hair done in a strange hairdo. From a distance, Ryoko could tell that his eyes weren't the same color. The other two were notably on the overweight side, though one was stout and the other looming. The shorter of the pair had what appeared to be cooking utensils in his possession; such as knives, chopsticks, a small pot and even what looked like a bottle of alcohol. The taller had no such accessories, dressed only in a fine suit with hair so generously greased that it had a distinct sheen to it. They were all gathered around a small bonfire, the tiny flicker of light barely lighting their faces.

Izuru made his way to the small crowd, and almost at once the laughter died down back to nothingness. The four people stared at him with blank, but undeniably perturbed looks on their faces, frames suddenly rigid where they were relaxed only moments before. Ryoko took a few steps, but found her legs quaking beneath her and stopped, clutching to a broken streetlight.

"What business have you here, traitor? Did we not threaten your health if we were to cross paths again? An explanation is in order. Speak now, or prepare for the bowels of Hell!" the duo-toned man spoke with a ringing timbre. Izuru remained noiseless, turning instead to Ryoko, huddled by herself in the dark. The four strangers gasped coaxing yet another from Ryoko. Unsure, the man with greased hair approached the redhead. He outstretched a hand to her, dark eyes prompting her to take it. Her heart was racing and her limbs trembling, but she reached out against her better judgement.

And she grabbed ahold.

He led her past the indifferent Izuru and to the fire - to the others. Once her face was touched by the warm caress of the flames and the speckle of their light, he let her go.

"So it is true," the man breathed, smoothing back his hair. His gaze pierced her, but it's scrutiny felt somewhat familiar. "You did survive." Ryoko turned to ask him what he meant, but the laughing girl was already grabbing her hands with vigor.

"I knew it!! Nobody could kill you!" she screeched triumphantly. She pumped her fist into the air, a motion that the other three repeated in kind. Ryoko couldn't help but notice how ragged her voice was - like she'd overused it or damaged it in a similar way. Well, if she was always this enthusiastic, then Ryoko could see the first possibility becoming an easy reality indeed. Izuru broke up the cheering by clearing his throat. He approached the fire, but stayed back in the shadows cast by the strangers and Ryoko. All of a sudden, it was like they existed in different worlds.

He was... untouchable; unreachable. Yes, that's what she felt.

Alone, surrounded by more people than she'd seen in who knows how long.

"If you're done with your little celebration..." Izuru began. "I'd like to know where Tsumiki is. She'll kill someone if she isn't notified immediately." The shortest of the bunch waved him off.

"I'll fetch her," he declared. "She's a few miles north, in the next town over. Heard that The Suits came over and treated all the people there. She couldn't _stand_ that." Izuru nodded, feigning interest. It was easy to tell now, what with the way the glint in his eyes dulled and hardened and he looked as though he were squinting just barely. "Anyway! Before I go -" the short man turned to Ryoko with a very pleased, maybe even smug expression, "- it was a pleasure to be in your presence, Sister Despair. As always." With that and a flourish, he turned and left, neglecting his bottle of unknown substance to be left behind.

"Sister despair?" Ryoko echoed. The duo-toned man affixed her with his heterochromatic stare, eyes narrowed.

"And you are pleased to see us?" he asked cautiously. Ryoko felt her nerves flare up again. It was like this was a test, and she was the only person who didn't know the answer.

"Err... Yeah, I guess. It's not every day that I meet people who know me," she chuckled nervously, scratching her cheek. The man's eyes narrowed further, the other two looking to him. He nodded after a few moments, and opened his mouth once more.

"Then the lesser rumors are true in kind," he stated. His voice sounded almost defeated, but there was a strange note to it that Ryoko couldn't quite place. "You remember no more." Ryoko's face flushed at that. It was an undeniable truth, but she felt that she was letting these people down. They expected her with memories in tow, and instead they'd have to deal with amnesiac Ryoko Otonashi. What a letdown she must be...

"Yes," she nodded despite her defeatedness, "I woke up inside of Hope's Peak Academy without any memory of who I was or how I got there. I-I'm sorry to have led you on. I didn't mean to, really!" She raised her hands in front of her in a gesture of peace. They just stared for a long, dragging few moments. And then, the girl was laughing again.

"Well then, we'll just have to help 'ya remember!" she exclaimed determinedly. "I'm Akane Owari! The guy who left was Teruteru Hanamura. This guy who talks all weird 'n junk is Gundham Tanaka -"

"I do not speak strangely! This is just -"

"And the other guy's... uhh," she continued, disregarding Gundham's outburst completely. The aforementioned scoffed something wicked in response. The man with greased hair shrugged at Akane's questioning look, eyes troubled. Finally, he turned to Ryoko instead.

"Sagi, if nothing else," he settled on. Ryoko cocked her head to the side, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't you have another name? I mean, I don't think anyone's cruel enough to name their kid that, a-and I don't want to insult you or anything..." For some reason, Mukuro flashed through Ryoko's mind, but she swiftly stomped her away. Sagi shook his head, hair almost solid as it swayed.

"No, my true name is one I discarded many years ago," he explained.

"O-oh, I see," Ryoko nodded along, not really understanding anything. They were far from her expectations, but not entirely unpleasant - hardly unpleasant at all, actually. Out of the four, Ryoko trusted Sagi and Akane the most. Akane just seemed really nice and personable, if a bit thin. Her laugh was infectious and her well-to-do enthusiasm was a welcome addition in contrast to Izuru any day. Sagi, albeit mysterious, had a very down-to-earth mindset about him. He was the sensible straight man, it seemed, among his quirky group.

What could she say? She liked them, plain and simple.

"Hey! Why don't you come join us? We were just talking about the stupidest people we've ever met," Akane offered, grabbing Teruteru's bottle. The invitation clearly didn't extend to Izuru, who was still standing a good distance away. Gundham turned to address him.

"You can do as you please, so long as you do not interfere with our efforts here," he warned venomously. Izuru wasn't shaken in the least; he just gave a tiny nod and left without a word. Ryoko felt that familiar shiver of uncertainty as his back became one with the shadows, but waved it off. She had too much to focus on right in front of her.

"So, who's the stupidest person you've ever met?" Sagi decided to continue after the awkward pause. Ryoko thought about it for a second, feeling both elated and pressured by the deja vu-inducing stares around her. Akane took a swig of the bottle's contents in that time.

"Well, it would definitely have to be this girl I met named Mukuro Ikusaba," she settled on at last. All in all, Mukuro had ended up making some, in Ryoko's mind, _stupid_ choices. Did the soldier honestly expect Ryoko to stick around when she was treated like crap every half-second? Like that was ever going to happen.

Evidently, she'd said something strange, because the three around the fire with her affixed her with eyes much like Izuru's. Cavernous, shadowed gems spied Ryoko without relent, and she opened her mouth to apologize. That is, until Akane started giggling up a storm again. The others joined in this time, Akane even wiping tears from her eyes.

"What is it?" Ryoko asked, infinitely confused. The laughter continued, but the three faced her with some attempt to cease it. The strangeness of everything was really the only factor keeping her from joining in.

"It's just... That's so _you_!" Akane responded first, despite having chuckled the hardest. She still wiped tears away from her eyes, smearing off clean lines across her dusty cheeks. Ryoko was shocked at first, but a smile gradually worked it's way on her face. _So, past me was like that too..._ And, her final walls crumbling, Ryoko started the laughter up again, the harmonious tune able to be heard long after the fire had gone out and they'd taken her to their base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are now moving towards the middle of act 2!! Woot! Also, Mikan is definitely coming next chapter and, don't worry, she's definitely very important ;3


	12. A Seed of Doubt Grows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as the title would suggest ;3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took so long! I wanted to get it out between Christmas and New Year's, but I hadn't worked on it since, like, November ;-;  
> I'll probably be able to get my next chapter out in a month or less ^^

The following morning passed as though in a dream. The abandoned building was kept cozily warm via a large fire or two, and though it wasn't exactly in pristine shape, the concrete was hardy and kept together. Ryoko couldn't even remember the last morning she'd spent in heated comfort.

Even the fort in the forest was drafty and prone to rain, and the place they'd squatted in while in the city before the bombs was without any heating. Ryoko would have to guess the academy, but that was before so many things that she could hardly remember it if not for the carpet beneath her feet, however grimy, and the buzz in the air that reminded her of the AC unit's thrum.

Ryoko had already eaten, a generous meal of fried ham and scrambled eggs, and now wandered the long, wire-thin corridors. She had no idea what this building was used for prior to the city's desertion, but it was an intriguing mystery at the very least. The halls were only just wide enough for Sagi's frame which was far from petite, but were still notably uncomfortable and even a bit claustrophobic.

They felt twisty and turny to Ryoko, and she had to sit down from dizziness a few times. Eventually, she found herself back where she'd started in the main hall slash dining room slash living room. Akane waved her over from there, grinning upon eye contact.

"Hey! How're you settling in?" she asked, still showing her yellowing canines. Ryoko replied with a sheepish smile in kind.

"It's a bit weird, but I definitely like the heat. Being able to feel my legs as I walk around is something I forgot I missed," she chuckled, stroking at her mat of red hair. She'd managed to con Izuru into making some kind of wooden comb of sorts, which she used at regular intervals to keep her easily-flustered hair in check. Now, if only she could get her hands on some shampoo, all her problems would be practically solved. At least, almost all of them.

A certain raven-haired girl lingered still in the back of Ryoko's mind, but was quickly swept away as Akane began dragging Ryoko along and towards a common room of sorts. Within, a select few people were gathered. Most of the faces from last night were present, sitting on well-worn couches or the ground.

A few were new, however. There were two new girls, both with very long hair. One was decked out in piercings and punk fashion, practically screaming "rocker" at Ryoko. The other had longer hair that was uneven in deliberate chunks, her face rather mousy looking, but her clothes hugging her with the confidence of someone perhaps too comfortable in their own skin. The latter of the two looked her up and down with abyssal, probing eyes, then cracked a smile and let out a tiny giggle.

"Ah, I see," she chuckled to herself in a breathy tone. The former girl followed similarly, but instead got up from an armrest she was sitting on and walked over.

"There's no mistaking that face! Bring it in, sister!" She held out her hand, brightly awaiting a high-five that Ryoko soon delivered. The girl didn't seem satisfied by that, and instead began poking Ryoko's cheek. "C'mon, you can do better than that!" Her hand was held out again. Ryoko, realizing that she definitely had to make this one count, drew her arm back _and swung it tightly, hand perfectly aligned to give Ibuki the scarlet mark she so desired_. With a resounding slap, the rocker grinned and withdrew. No one seemed to question this any, Akane proceeding to put her hand on Ryoko's shoulder.

"So anyway Ryoko, the one you just high-fived was Ibuki Mioda, she's the totally metal chick." Ibuki nodded with pride. "The other girl over there is Mikan Tsumiki. She's pretty much our patch-up gal, but she likes to do her own thing most 'a the time." She turned once more to look at the other girl, and found a shy smile in place of the previously darkened one. Ryoko bowed.

"It's nice to meet you. You've probably heard, but I currently suffer from memory loss. Call me Ryoko Otonashi," she introduced herself. There wasn't really anything more to say, but a palpable silence dragged on nevertheless, and she began to fidget out of nervousness. She took to fiddling with the sleeve ends of Izuru's suit coat, which she forgot to give back to him and took to wearing out of habit. Eventually, Teruteru of all people spoke up.

"Well then, shall we begin the meeting? I believe that we have much to discuss," he suavely cut in. Everyone nodded in collective agreement, and Ryoko internally sighed. Saved again.

"Actually, Mikan, how'd your little escapade go? I'm dying to know the details!" Akane excitedly cut in, plopping down on Ibuki's opposing armrest. Ryoko was about to sit on the floor, but Gundham motioned her over and got up from the couch, leaving her a spot. She flashed him a smile, but didn't think he saw it as his face remained unchanged while he took her place on the floor. Mikan looked away and coyly scratched her cheek at Akane's question.

"Well, I managed to get them out of the town," she explained quietly. Ryoko had to lean forward to hear her, Mikan's voice was so miniscule. "Teruteru did a lot with helping me get them all together, a-and we got so many that I don't think they'll be back anytime soon." Her eyes darted to Ryoko briefly. "At least, if they saw our little gift they won't." Mikan looked away again, the redhead noticing her wipe some drool from the corner of her mouth before Akane barged back into the conversation.

"Ooh, man! You gotta give me the nitty-gritty details sometime! The looks on their faces must'a been priceless..." Teruteru chuckled warmly at that.

"Indeed." Ryoko, before anyone else could push on, raised her hand for permission to speak. Akane nodded at her.

"Sorry to interrupt, but... what exactly is it that you guys do?" she questioned. The thought had crossed her mind a few times now, but this was the only real opportunity to ask. The gathered members seemed to look around at each other, Mikan doing a strange hand gesture and Gundham following suit shortly thereafter. They looked back at her, all with smiles, however tiny or off-putting, on their faces.

"We have no primary objective, so to speak," Gundham was the one to speak, deep voice booming in the enclosed space. "We wish only to claim and maintain territory. It is a hellish landscape out there, but is immeasurably safer experienced in numbers with a place to call home. These treacherous 'Suits' that Mikan and Teruteru chased off have been threatening that safety in growing force lately."

"Ah... I think I get it... So, you chase these guys out so that you can keep your land safe? That's almost like knights or police or something," Ryoko wondered aloud. There was a resounding nod amidst the group. Ryoko had to let out a little sigh. She'd been a tiny bit concerned that perhaps these nice people had darker intentions at heart. Now, she would no longer need to worry herself over their potential goals. She had real, firm ideology to work with, which was infinitely better in any case. Of course, a portion of her mind still nagged at her, reminding her of people left behind and uncertainty looking forward. She chose to ignore it.

"So, any ideas of when we should move again?" The conversation was continuing without Ryoko, Mikan's voice asking. Akane scratched her tangle of hair in thought, as did many of the other people present.

"I think that a week should be good," Ibuki answered, grinning as Ryoko found she often did. "If we stay here too long, we'll be easy to find. _Buuut_ , if we leave too soon, we won't be able to get everything. So, a week should be plenty of time to get everything together without letting ourselves be found! I've planned, scheduled _and_ performed concerts in _way_ less time!" They all nodded at her proposal.

So, they periodically moved... Another defense against those "Suits" most likely. Ryoko found herself idly wondering who would accompany them in the move, and who would stay behind. Clearly, it would be a bad idea to leave this base entirely unattended. It was much more of a strategy game they were playing, moving their pieces around to have the best overall defense. Kind of like chess.

"Then it is decided. Akane, I believe that you, Mikan and I should stay behind to ward off any cursed trailers. I would then join Ibuki and Teruteru, leaving you two here. Ryoko, you would travel with them in advance."

"I-I cannot accept that!" Mikan's sudden exclamation caught too few of them by surprise, Ryoko noted as she jumped. No one else had seemed to react to Mikan's objection in the slightest, like they knew it was coming and didn't even care. "I showed myself to them yesterday, a-as did Teruteru! If anyone should leave, it should be both of us!" Her desperation was stark in contrast to the blank faces she was receiving. That made logical sense. After all, it was easier to find a target if you knew what to look for and were expecting it. An unknown enemy was far more dangerous than an unmasked one.

The others didn't seem to agree, faces still uncaring. Ryoko once again felt a shiver go down her spine, and her once-ignorable anxieties sunk to the pit of her stomach. This... was all wrong. These people... were they really her friends? Her heartbeat sped and sped with each stunted intake of breath.

"You should know your place, Tsumiki," Gundham responded, the feeling in his voice as intangible as the expression on his face. Mikan's eyes darkened considerably, and she lowered her head to face the ground.

"I understand." Her words, her admission of defeat... It was filled to the brim with nothing but hollow, lifeless... despair. Ryoko felt her face go hot as her breathing slowly came back to regular levels. That sense of alienation, of dissociation from the night before returned in full force, curling up from her stomach and settling into the too-fast thrumming of her heart. There was something very wrong here. And she was going to find out what. Ryoko was hardly aware of Ibuki's concern.

**_LIAR._ **

She couldn't seem to notice Gundham's complicated expression of conflicted pride and shame.

**_SPINELESS._ **

She didn't even realize that Akane was laughing again.

**_EMPTY._ **

It was only Mikan, who had apparently kneeled beside her and rested a hand on Ryoko's shoulder, that brought her back to reality. Everyone... had gone. Mikan and Ryoko were the only two left in the room. There weren't even dim footsteps - they had left a while ago. Mikan's lavender eyes looked into Ryoko's, filled with worry.

"Are you feeling alright? You just started s-spacing out, so I thought maybe something had happened..." Mikan tore her gaze away and stood up, offering a hand to the still-couched red-head. Ryoko took the hand.

"I'm... fine. Sorry, I was just thinking about a lot and... Why did they treat you like that?" she interrogated, stopping Mikan dead in her tracks. She seemed confused by the question, eyebrows furrowing.

"What do you mean?"

"The way they just... looked down on you. Why? You brought up perfectly valid points and proposed a plan that would be in their best interest. So, why?" This outrage was new to Ryoko, but felt like second nature. For some reason, seeing Mikan... Ryoko felt a real connection there, like Mikan was pulling her in. Actually, isn't that called a magnetic personality? Still, it felt too personal to just sit there and let her get berated. Mikan strangely let out a small giggle in response.

"Oh, it's fine. They're only trying to help me in the long run anyway," she explained away.

"But-"

"Don't worry, I've been thinking up a little plan. I'm not down and out yet," Mikan smiled reassuringly at Ryoko, and she felt her anger begin to ebb.

"I-if you say so..." As it left, a palpable sense of unease filled its place. And, as her suspicions mounted against them, her trust in Mikan solely grew. It was only then that the redhead realized that the two were still holding hands, and she retracted her's shortly. "Err, sorry about that..."

"That's okay," Mikan assured, upbeat. "Also, are you free later?"

"Huh? I should be."

"Good. I want to show you something." She stepped out first as the two left the meeting room.

\---

When she'd gone to bed that night, a sense of unease had kept her up and given her a delayed sleep. When she'd woken up, though... That feeling lingered. No, it intensified. And, that all-too familiar feeling of despair had torn through her like bullets through the air as she turned to find the place once occupied by her sister and the traitorous enigma now deserted.

It was now a few days after that. Mukuro had known, deep in her heart, that she couldn't coddle her sister forever. Something would come along and mess everything up. After all, she always was such a disappointment. However, having it happen right under her nose like this...? She cursed her naivety. What a truly, hopelessly disappointing sister she was, to let Junko fall back into the clutches of despair so easily. In the end, even she and Makoto's plan backfired. How absolutely, predictably hopeless.

That morning, Mukuro's initial instinct was to follow in hot pursuit, to rescue Ryoko. But there were no signs of a struggle - in fact, it seemed that they had at some point planned this. All of their things, besides the bedding material, had been packed at an even pace. Not a single thing was left. If Mukuro caught up and tried to reason with her sister, she'd likely be resisted and told to leave. She may even need to fight Kamukura, and she was entirely unsure if that would be a fight she'd win or lose. They were so similar, after all...

There was one more obstacle, however, standing in her way. Junko herself. Wasn't this all despairingly perfect for her? Stabbing her sister in the back and not even being aware of it... Leaving of her own free will, tempted by Kamukura. It all sounded like exactly what Junko would find the most enjoyment out of upon her reawakening.

And there was no doubt in Mukuro's mind - her reawakening would surely come to pass. Time would've yielded it, even if the remnants hadn't. It was a losing game from the start. Perhaps this was her sister's true intentions in playing the part of Ryoko Otonashi once more. As usual...

Heart-rending and soul-crushing...

Despair.

\---

Outside, the streets were still ravaged and buildings abandoned, but this time, Mikan held Ryoko's hand as they moved. The gentle, melancholic light of sunset gave every inch of concrete and metal, every destroyed street and structure, a dim and beautiful glow. Ryoko almost wanted to ask where they were going, but the atmosphere was so calm and comfortable... she couldn't find it in herself to ruin it for the other girl. However, Mikan spoke instead, quiet and soothing.

"We're almost there." As she said that, Ryoko could see a break in the once-proud skyscrapers as the ground evened out. The tumultuous ripple of the bombs didn't seem to have reached this far edge of the cityscape, making the final stretch of the journey far easier without rubble or upturned ground. And then, Ryoko saw it. The same, tired buildings parted and revealed a lone hill with a singular tree on top. Mikan turned back to flash Ryoko a smile, then let go of her hand. "I'll race you!"

"Huh?" Ryoko could only stare, dumbfounded as Mikan took off without her. Her confusion didn't last long, though, and she was soon sprinting to the hill with vigor. Izuru's suit coat made her heat up considerably, though, so she hastily tied it around her waist as she ran. Mikan, thanks to the head start and some seriously crazy speed, made it there first. Ryoko was proud to note that she wasn't too far behind, though. As she clung to the tree and fought to catch her breath, Mikan pointed wordlessly at the horizon. Ryoko turned her gaze, and her eyes widened.

Beautiful shades of red melded perfectly into the velvety purple beneath. Clouds were painted in a myriad of colors, framing the sky. It was... gorgeous. Ryoko had never seen anything like it. The last time she'd even paid attention to sunset, it was probably during her stay in the woods, and the ashen trees really lessened the impact. Either that, or Mikan had a supremely good eye for sunset-watching locations.

"Isn't it pretty?" Mikan finally spoke, even. Ryoko turned back to look at her. A slight breeze blew by, cooling the two off from the sudden activity. Mikan's purple hair was gently tossed about her, and Ryoko found herself looking longer than needed before nodding.

"Yeah... It really is..." To cover this, she turned back and looked out again. On the horizon, higher hills rose and fell with grace, and the faded outline of buildings could be made out next to them. Ah, that must be the town Mikan and Teruteru were at. It wasn't too far, but would take an hour or two on foot by Ryoko's estimations.

"Ryoko." At the sound of her name, the redhead snapped to attention. "I should tell you something."

"What is it, Mikan?" She couldn't keep the 'out-of-left-field' surprise from her voice as she spoke. Mikan ran her fingers through her tussled hair, eyes avoiding Ryoko.

"I-I don't want to cause any trouble, but..." Mikan's voice trembled. She seemed to gather her courage, however, taking a deep breath and looking Ryoko head-on. "The others... were lying today. About everything." Huh?

"Wh-what do you mean, everything?" All those negative thoughts and emotions that she'd just spent the day trying to sort through and eventually ignoring came in like a lion, claiming her heart.

"What we do, how we do it... What happened in the town yesterday... They were all lies," Mikan slowly, nervously explained. She had moved from playing with her hair to awkwardly twiddling her fingers. "And they'll try to lie to you more. So, watch out for them." Ryoko blinked, unsure of what to say. Part of her wanted to really yell that she definitely called it and that maybe she is good at this analytic stuff.

The other was too scared to speak.

Lying? Mikan seemed to realize what she was thinking, as she was quick to assure her that, “I’ll explain it later.” But, _when exactly_ was later? How long did Ryoko have to wait for _real_ answers? Lies were really starting to get on her nerves now. She could at least appreciate Mikan’s honesty with her, though.

It gave her... hope.

“Why don’t we stay here a while?” She suggested, voice barely audible. Mikan had no qualms, she sat down and patted out a spot next to her’s. Ryoko soon joined her, and the two looked out at the setting sun for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This doesn't spell too good for Ryoko :0  
> Lol, Mikan you manipulative jerk XD Being all sneaky-like and ruining everyone else's plans  
> I imagine Gundham, seeing Ryoko about to sit on the floor, being like "don't embarrass yourself further" and selflessly giving up his seat so that Ryoko didn't accidentally make a fool of herself X3 Very nice, but it's horribly misplaced  
> Also, a little look into some other stuff, which will be expanded upon in later chapters. Ooh boy, I wonder what Mukuro and Makoto's plan was...


	13. A Change of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've returned with this fic! The first half or so has been written for quite a while, but I finally kicked my brain into gear and got the rest out! Enjoy ^^

After the sun had hidden behind the horizon, Mikan and Ryoko had stayed for a bit longer, exchanging sparse words. By the time Ryoko had returned to her room, however, the paranoia had really set in. She could no longer find the right state of mind for sleep in the space they'd prepared for her.

Her thoughts raced about, bustling and burning the midnight oil against her better judgement. She'd been tossing and turning for a good while now, and it had done little more than further entangle her red hair and remind her that her pillow was much too sweaty and flat to be very comfortable. So after much annoyance, Ryoko gave in and got up.

In her room was a bed with thin sheets and a simple table with a long edge set against the wall, along with a folding chair who's missing leg had been repaired with some kind of pipe. On top of it were Ryoko's belongings - Izuru's suit jacket and the comb he'd made for her, hardly used, her oddly beloved plastic sandwich bag with it's many stains and, of course, her recently neglected bat buddy.

She brushed the wood of the bat for a moment, but passed it up for her notebook and the pen resting near it. Pulling out the chair, she sat and opened it. Flipping to an open page was always a bit of a hassle, but some of the journal entries really piqued her interest along the way. They'd mention attempted murder and strange, inexplicable occurrences. Intriguing mysteries and their potentially dark conclusions.

Though a _lot_ were just lovey-dovey about Matsuda.

As she neared her end of the journal, from after she'd woken up in that school, Ryoko caught glimpse of a small note, one made in the top margin of a page. The letters were tiny and the ink had been smeared in rough handling of the notebook, so it was practically illegible, but Ryoko could swear that she saw the word "killed" among those written. Feeling that chill scurry down her spine, she hastened and made it to the last page she'd written on. Meeting all these new faces who were at least supposedly familiar with her had distracted Ryoko from her usual entry-writing, and so the latest written day was the day before her journey back to the city had ended. Just looking back that far, with what Mikan had told her...

Her own naive trust was almost painful to see.

Of course she couldn't just immediately trust people at face value! But, Izuru had promised that they knew her, and they definitely had a reaction to her that would imply him telling the truth. Even so, Ryoko now felt the panic of blindly bumbling into a den of wolves. She felt... like a fool.

But even that raised more questions. Could she trust Mikan either? Were they all lying? Was it an elaborate farce meant to get her to react a certain way, or function predictably? Ryoko scribbled this all down until her wrist hurt, flinging fearing propositions left and right onto the page and staining it with her dark ink in the process. It was then that she realized that her hands were going numb from the cold, body shaking.

With a sigh, she closed her notebook for now and slipped Izuru's coat back on. The fabric was smooth and cold, but it guarded her restlessly from the biting chill which had lingered since she'd taken it off at dusk. It was the only constant she could calculate and rely on right now, even if it's original owner wasn't. With a deep breath, she rested her elbows on the table and placed her face into her open hands.

It felt almost comforting, like the gentle caress of a parent or close friend. But Ryoko would find neither of those here, and that was something she found herself growing more and more assured of as the seconds ticked into minutes - and she eventually just laid her head in her own crossed arms which were compacted to conserve body heat, staring at the concrete wall framing the door to her room.

When her eyes peeked open, she was surprised to find it had warmed, her mouth a little crusty with dried drool. Wiping her eyes, she sat up. Her legs were partially numb, pins and needles running up and down the length of her calves, and her shoulders were sore. Ryoko realized that she must've fallen asleep like that, the thought dumbfounding her a bit because she hadn't even registered her own exhaustion. She stretched as best she could while sitting, trying to rub warmth back into her legs as she rose. Izuru's coat was loose on her shoulders but present, keeping them heated even if her mostly-bare legs weren't. Ryoko couldn't bring herself to shrug it off.

With a yawn, she made sure her notebook was closed and on a whim picked up her trusty bat, leaving the room. It was warmer on the other side of the door, and she could better hear the crackling of fire. The sound grew louder and louder as she rounded each corner, eventually finding herself face to face with it's source as well as the person tending to the flames - Mikan, it seemed. Seeing Ryoko, the nurse's face instantly filled with a sort of reverence before shifting into pure joy.

"Good morning, Ryoko! I hope you slept well," she greeted cheerily with a little wave. Ryoko nodded, but seeing her again so soon just brought her mind back to last night.

 _Could_ she trust Mikan?

That thought wouldn't leave, even when she tried to shove it away and ignore it. Ryoko chose instead to focus on Mikan's gentle face and sugar-sweet voice. Her suspicions could wait. Now wasn't the time.

"I ended up... sleeping better than I thought, actually." The lie slipped from her lips easily. Too easily. "I guess our race yesterday tired me out." Her hand's grip on the shaped wood grew tighter, but Ryoko didn't even process it until Mikan had motioned for Ryoko to sit with her, the redhead catching a glimpse of her own white knuckles. She pulled the sturdy wood over her lap like a security blanket. As if it was of any use to her that way.

"That's good," Mikan spoke, voice high but staying in an almost monotone range. "I was hoping I could help you. Exercise before sleep can work real wonders sometimes." Ryoko didn't say anything. Her eyes drifted back to her bat, and a tiny voice in the back of her head told her to just use it already, to _hit Mikan_ and, fingers crossed, knock her out. But she shook that off. What an insane overreaction to something that was ordinary and harmless in every way. What did she expect, for Mikan to suddenly pull a knife or something on her?

"Ryoko?" The nurse in question piped up again. It was a question asked out of concern, and yet her smile didn't shift in the slightest.

"Sorry, I was just... thinking." It was a pathetic excuse and she knew it. But that distrust in the back of her mind told her to stay on edge. She could feel that something would happen. Mikan nodded, as if she was able to perfectly guess what was on the amnesiac's mind.

"Ah, it's about what I said yesterday, right?"

Ryoko froze.

"H-how...?"

"It's written all over your face," Mikan explained matter-of-factly. An almost gloaty aura, one that didn't suit her at all, crept from her face across her body. She leaned closer and closer, Ryoko powerless to do anything until they were practically touching cheeks. "We should probably talk about it." Not a question -

A statement. _A demand_.

"... We should," Ryoko agreed, painfully aware of the lump in her throat and the voice crack. Attraction or fear; how was she meant to tell them apart when Mikan did things like _this_?! As warm as her face was and as strongly as her heart was pounding, she still wanted to think, if for just a moment, that it was attraction.

"What do you want to know? I'm an open book for you," the nurse prompted, drawing back her face just enough to comfortably look Ryoko in the eyes without her own crossing. The smile on her face was servile, as though the redhead before her was some kind of deity. _For you_. The end of the sentence that didn't need to be added, but was regardless. Ryoko's heart fluttered in her chest.

"Well... if the others were lying," her voice instinctively lowered, "then what for? What do they want from me?" Mikan's face didn't shift, but the firelight gave the expression shown... dramatic lighting.

"They want to sway you into becoming their leader. It seems they have no hope left for the previous one; not since you've shown up," she murmured quietly, taking Ryoko's lead. The entire situation was dangerous and secretive, so _why_? _Why did it make Ryoko's face heat up so much_?

"Their leader...? What happened to the old one?" Ryoko asked, further confused. She rubbed the bat's handle in small circles with her thumb, body itching to do something - anything. ' _If this is how I am paranoid, then I'm afraid to find out what I'd be like when delusional. Hopefully nothing worse than the old me, fawning over someone all day._ ' Mikan's eyes grew shadowed, darker than they should be.

"She gave herself up for hope - for the belief that providing space for hope would reap even darker despair. She always did like testing her luck," was the answer received. Ryoko swallowed tightly. She felt a bead of sweat slide down her forehead. Inexplicable dread crawled around in her stomach.

"What exactly did she do? Like, did she turn herself in, or...?"

"Oh, nothing as boring as that!" Mikan giggled. It sounded entirely empty. "See, she holed herself up in a building and used a very special device to give the hope in her room to grow."

"And what do you mean by that?" Ryoko's voice was rising. Why did that sound so...? Her grip on the bat tightened. She pulled it off her legs and let the tip touch the floor. Why did that sound so _familiar_...?

"..." Mikan didn't answer at first. Her face was blank, devoid of anything and everything. But then... she smiled. She smiled widely, mouth wide and stretched into a crescent moon that reached the region of abject horror. There was a flash of something caught by Ryoko's eye, but as soon as it registered, her consciousness began to grow dark. "Oh Ryoko... Everything would've been fine if only you didn't probe so much. And I really liked you this way too..."

"M-Mikan...!" Ryoko poured strength into her arms and swung the bat with as much force as she could muster. Mikan caught it with a single, small, bandaged hand.

"Goodnight, my beloved..." There was the smallest sensation of something against her lips, and the entire world had it's lights turned out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I know it's on the short side ^^' But, the next chapter will have a lot of stuff going on, so I think it's justified. I didn't initially plan on going here so soon, but I think I've kept the first half going a little too long, and it seemed appropriate.  
> Anyway, thank you all for bearing with me (pun entirely intended), and I hope to get the next chapter out sometime near the end of this month or next month! Until next time :7


End file.
